All Will Be Well
by WinterSky101
Summary: Kíli wakes up after Tauriel heals him to find that everything seems to have fallen apart around him. He's not about to let that stand. Post-Desolation of Smaug AU with book spoilers. Updates on Fridays.
1. Chapter 1

**New chapters will be updated on Fridays, unless otherwise stated for some reason. Information to help comprehension of certain aspects of Tolkein's world will be in the notes after every chapter. This work will be following the book to an extent, while also following Jackson's invented Kíli plotline. However, there will be deviations from the original storyline.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit.**

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><p>The endless waves of pain began to recede as Kíli struggled towards consciousness. His leg still felt as if it were on fire, but the pain had lessened.<p>

Dimly, Kíli heard voices, sounding as if they were a world away from him. One of the voices he recognized as the most important one in his life, a voice he had heard almost every day for seventy-seven years. Fíli. He sounded worried, upset. Kíli tried to claw his way to consciousness. He had to get to his brother.

With a gasp, Kíli resurfaced into awareness. "Kíli!" Fíli cried, his conversation abruptly cutting off. "Kíli, how are you feeling?"

"What happened?" Kíli gasped. Fíli frowned with worry.

"Tauriel saved you. Don't you remember?" Suddenly, Kíli did, but he wished he didn't. _Do you think she could ever love me?_ In Mahal's name, had he actually said that?

"Where…" Kíli asked, his voice breaking before he could finish the sentence.

"We're in Bard's house," Fíli answered. "Óin, Bofur, and Bard's children are in the other room. Tauriel-"

"I am here," Tauriel interrupted, stepping forward. Kíli met her eyes for a breathless instant, then he looked away. Shame coursed through his body as the memory of his words flashed in his mind again. Damn it all.

"What of the dragon and the rest of the Company?" Kíli asked, his voice rasping and hoarse. Fíli shot a sideways look at Tauriel.

"We've heard nothing of them. But we did hear the dragon. It seems Smaug has awoken." Kíli tensed. That was bad news, he knew. And it meant the rest of the Company was in grave danger.

"Do you think they can slay him?" Kíli asked, struggling to sit up. Tauriel aided him, but she only allowed him to prop himself up in a slightly more upright position, not sit all the way up. Perhaps that was good; even just propped up, Kíli felt slightly faint.

"Perhaps," Fíli replied, but he didn't look very optimistic. Kíli knew what that meant. Thorin, along with all the others, could very likely die.

"Your friends will wish to know you are awake," Tauriel murmured, standing and stepping away from the bed, leaving the brothers alone for a moment. Once she was out of sight, Fíli grabbed Kíli tightly and hugged him.

"Don't ever do that again," he hissed. "I thought you were going to die."

"What, and leave you all alone?" Kíli asked, trying to add a bit of levity to the situation. Fíli let out what sounded like a choked sob.

"If Tauriel hadn't arrived when she did, you would have been lost. Óin himself thought you were beyond saving."

"I thought he'd have more faith in me," Kíli replied lightheartedly. Fíli didn't laugh.

"Kíli, please. Take this seriously. I don't know what I would do if you were to die."

"I won't. That'll solve the problem," Kíli replied. Fíli did chuckle a bit at that.

"As if it were that easy."

"I have my big brother watching out for me," Kíli replied easily. Fíli looked as if he were about to respond when Óin and Bofur came in and rushed to Kíli's bedside.

"Oh, am I glad to see you awake, laddie," Bofur said with a grin and a clap to Kíli's shoulder. Óin didn't bother with pleasantries and immediately went to take the bandages off Kíli's leg.

"Oi!" Kíli demanded as his leg flared with pain. Fíli glared at Óin, obviously about ready to pull him away from Kíli.

"I need to check the lad's leg," Óin retorted, giving Fíli a dirty look of his own. Kíli put his hand on Fíli's.

"I'm fine," he told him, his voice only slightly strained. Fíli relaxed, but only a bit.

"I am not highly trained in the healing arts," Tauriel said softly, stepping into the room on soundless feet. She had an apologetic tone to her words. "I ejected the poison, but I could not do much to fix the wound itself. And it will be slow to heal, if it ever fully recovers at all."

"What do you mean, _if_ it fully recovers?" Kíli asked, beginning to feel a slight trepidation.

"I have heard stories that Morgul poisons often leave lasting effects," Tauriel replied. "I don't know if you will have these effects; not all people do." The thought of being left with a permanent limp filled Kíli with a sense of horror, but he didn't say anything. His distress must have shown on his face, however, judging by the look Fíli shot Tauriel. "But there are not many accounts, and none that are recent," she added, clearly trying to sound comforting. "And many cases are wildly exaggerated. It is highly likely you'll make a full recovery." Kíli wasn't fully convinced. Óin's expression when he saw Kíli's leg didn't help matters.

"I think it'll heal," he said tentatively. Kíli looked and wished he hadn't. The wound wasn't as bad as it had been before, but it was still clearly a deep and serious wound. There was a gasp from behind Tauriel and Kíli saw Bard's youngest daughter, Tilda, with a look of horrified disgust on her face. Next to her were Sigrid and Bain, but not their father.

"Where is Bard?" Kíli asked, only then realizing that Fíli hadn't mentioned him earlier when he told Kíli where everyone was. Fíli didn't look happy about the question.

"Bard was taken by the Master of Lake-town."

"What?" Kíli demanded, trying to sit up straighter. Fíli put his hands on Kíli's shoulders to stop the movement.

"We'll free him, but you must stay here."

"I can help!" Kíli protested, struggling against Fíli's hands.

"And you will," Fíli replied, still not letting Kíli sit up. "You can help us plan how to get Bard out. You've always been the clever one. Help figure it out."

The words _I don't know how_ were on the tip of Kíli's tongue when Tilda came over to him shyly. "Please, Master Dwarf," she whispered. "Please free my father."

"I owe your father a debt, child," Kíli replied, unable to think of denying her. "He took me in and kept me from death. If he can be rescued, we will do it."

Tilda threw her arms around Kíli in a burst of gratitude no one was expecting. Sigrid took a step forward, as if to pull Tilda off, but Kíli gently wrapped his arms around the little girl before Sigrid could reach them. "Thank you," Tilda whispered. Kíli smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Tilda's hair.

"All will be well," he promised, and he hoped it wasn't a lie.

Tilda pulled out of the hug a moment later, but she stayed right next to Kíli. "How would you suggest we go about freeing Bard?" Fíli asked his brother. Kíli sighed, thinking.

"We'd need to do it in a way they're not expecting. Does the Master even know we're here?"

"Perhaps," Bofur replied. "He's got spies everywhere. I wouldn't count on thinking he doesn't."

"Alright. How many men are guarding Bard?" Fíli and Bofur looked at each other. Kíli sighed. "You don't know?"

"I told you you'd be the best at this," Fíli replied sheepishly. Kíli shook his head fondly.

"You're hopeless," he sighed. "Well, the first thing we need to do is figure out where Bard is and who's guarding him."

"My father gave me his Black Arrow to hide," Bain piped in. "And I might know where to find him."

"I must see if Legolas is still here," Tauriel added. "But I will return after I search the town. If I see any sign of Bard, I will tell you."

"Thank you," Kíli replied, inclining his head at Tauriel slightly. He could barely look at her without remembering his idiotic words, but that would not stop him from doing his job to help Fíli and the others.

Tauriel nodded before leaping out the window. Kíli looked back at the others. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he demanded of Fíli. "You and Bofur should go and see if you can find out where the Master is holding Bard. Óin and I will watch the children."

"I want to do what I can to help," Bain said firmly. Sigrid nodded.

"And I," she added. Kíli gave them a soft smile.

"And you shall. But, until we have a plan, the thing you can do to help the most is to stay here. You can help us watch Tilda. I don't know how much I will be able to do." Kíli gestured at his leg, which was starting to hurt again.

"But we will be alright, won't we?" Tilda asked, pulling on Kíli's hair gently to get his attention. "You'll get our father back and we'll all be alright."

"You'll be alright. All will be well," Kíli replied, tousling Tilda's hair slightly. "I promise it."

Fíli and Bofur shot Kíli a look before they left the house. Óin disappeared into the corner, doing something with some herbs, and Kíli found himself left alone with the children. Tilda was practically in his lap, but Bain and Sigrid had maintained a distance. Kíli could see that they needed comfort as well, however, and he held his arms out towards them.

"Shall I tell you a story?" he asked. Bain made a face as he approached.

"I'm too old for stories," he complained. Kíli nodded. If he compared dwarf years to human years, he wouldn't be that much older than Bain and Sigrid. But he was still the eldest of the four, and he had to be there for the children.

"I know," Kíli replied in an undertone. "But I believe it might help calm Tilda, and she will be more inclined to listen if you at least act as though you are as well."

"Ah." Bain nodded. Kíli turned to Tilda.

"Do you wish to hear a story?" he asked her. She nodded shyly. "Very well. Have you heard the story of how Mahal created the dwarves?" The children shook their heads, so Kíli dropped his voice to the proper storytelling tone and began.

"Long ago, before even the elves were born, Mahal was tired of waiting for someone to whom he teach his crafts…"

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><p><strong>The idea of Morgul poison leaving lasting effects was derived from information given about Frodo's wound from a Morgul blade inThe Lord of the Rings. The wound continued to pain him for years, and the only complete cure was when he left for the Undying Lands.<strong>

**The story Kíli tells Bard's children is the story of the creation of the dwarves, in which Mahal (also known as Aulë) created dwarves due to his impatience for life to be created, even though the elves were supposed to be the first beings to live in Middle Earth.**


	2. Chapter 2

Tilda fell asleep on Kíli's lap halfway through the story, clearly exhausted, but Bain and Sigrid, despite claiming to be too old for stories, listened with fervor to the whole thing, only slipping away once Kíli finished. As they went over to a corner of the room to talk privately, Óin came over with some sort of draught that he had made while Kíli was telling the story.

"Drink it," he informed Kíli, who gave the mixture a rather dubious look. "It'll help with the pain."

"I'm not in pain," Kíli lied. In truth, his leg was hurting again, although it wasn't as bad as it had been. But Kíli had taken mixtures like the one Óin was offering him before, and he knew that they made him drowsy as well as dulling the pain. In this situation, he couldn't afford to let Óin's potion dull his senses.

"Drink the damn draught," Óin demanded, stuffing it into Kíli's hands. "If you're worried about drowsiness, don't be. This won't do as much to dull the pain as other things I could have made you, but you'll keep your senses about you."

"Alright," Kíli grumbled, downing the drink in one sip. It tasted foul.

"Good lad," Óin replied, nodding. "You ought to sleep."

Kíli gave Óin a dubious look. "My uncle and the rest of our company are going to face down a dragon. Bard has been taken by the Master's men. If Smaug is not slain before he leaves Erebor, he will undoubtedly come and attack Lake-town, most likely after killing our entire company, save the four of us. And we were just attacked by orcs. Forgive me for wishing to remain as alert as possible."

"I understand, lad," Óin replied, sounding sympathetic, "but there is nothing you can do for your uncle or the others at the moment. And you will be of no help to anyone if you can't even walk."

Kíli huffed. "I dislike feeling useless," he admitted. Óin sighed.

"Aye, so do we all," he replied. "But there is naught we can do to help it at the moment. Soon, Fíli and Bofur will return with news of Bard, and you can help plan how we rescue him."

"I hope they return soon," Kíli replied grimly. Óin said something in reply, but it was lost on Kíli as a wave of pain radiated through him. In Mahal's name, every _inch_ of him ached. And as much as he hated it, Kíli thought Óin was right; he doubted he'd be able to walk.

"Sleep, lad," Óin urged. Kíli wasn't sure if he noticed the pain or not. "If anything happens, I will wake you." Kíli sighed.

"I will rest," he replied. "I will not promise you that I will sleep."

Óin nodded. "Very well," he replied, crossing the room to where he had herbs spread out across the table. Kíli shifted slightly, trying not to wake Tilda as he attempted to find a more comfortable position. It was difficult, but finally Kíli managed, finding a way to stretch out a bit more without disturbing the sleeping child in his lap.

Although he did keep his promise to rest, Kíli didn't sleep. Óin's potion did dull the pain, but Kíli could still feel it. Instead of sleeping, Kíli let his mind wander to other things. He couldn't help but think of the rest of the company, at the mountain with an awake and furious dragon. He wondered if Gandalf had arrived yet; he had told Thorin strictly that he was not to enter the mountain without him. But if Kíli knew his uncle - and he liked to think that he did - Thorin would enter the mountain without Gandalf there with barely a second thought. Kíli wondered if he had.

"Kíli, lad?" Kíli jerked slightly, biting back a curse as the movement sent waves of pain up his leg, and looked over at Óin. "I'm going to go out and see if I can't find more kingsfoil. I won't be long." Feeling a bit apprehensive, even though chances were nothing was going to happen, Kíli nodded. Óin slipped out the door, leaving Kíli alone with the children. Bain and Sigrid had finished their conversation and had moved onto doing chores around the house; Sigrid was washing dishes while Bain dried them. Kíli watched them quietly, gently running his fingers through Tilda's hair as he did so. Although Kíli was seventy-seven in dwarf years, that was around the human equivalent to eighteen, he believed. Bain looked to be around fourteen, while Sigrid seemed closer to sixteen. Tilda couldn't have been older than seven, although Kíli would guess she was closer to six. In human years, Kíli wasn't much older than the older children were. He had only come of age two years before, making him barely more of an adult than the others. But someone had to take charge, someone with more experience in fighting and surviving, and in those terms, Kíli was much older than Bard's children.

Kíli tensed when he heard footsteps on the path outside leading to the house. "Bain," he hissed. The boy turned to him immediately; he had clearly heard the sound as well. "Go look out the window and see who's coming. Don't let them see you." Kíli knew he was most likely being paranoid, but if it was someone other than a friend coming, Kíli would curse the fact that he hadn't been careful enough.

Bain scurried over to the window and peeked out. "It's some of the Master's guards!" he exclaimed quietly. Kíli's heart dropped. The Master's guards could be there for no good reason. Kíli knew he couldn't do much, but he would do what he could to protect the children.

"Sigrid, Bain. Take Tilda into the other room." Bard didn't have a large house, but as well as the main room, he had a small bedroom for his children. "Barricade the door and keep quiet. Do not open it for the Master's men, no matter what happens. Keep the door shut until the Master's men are gone. Do you promise me that you will do that?"

"I want to help!" Bain protested.

"As do I!" Sigrid added. Kíli offered them a wan smile.

"You two must be ready to protect yourselves and your sister if the guards should manage to get the door open." The children nodded. "Fight them as much as you can, but there is no shame in surrendering if you have no chance," Kíli added, not wanting the children to be injured fighting men who would undoubtedly be stronger than they. "It is better for you to be alive and well but imprisoned, where we may rescue you, than for you to be injured or worse." For a moment, Kíli was afraid he had gone too far and scared Bain and Sigrid, but they surprised him as they nodded, wearing identical resolved looks. Sigrid led a still-half-asleep Tilda into the room, then Bain closed the door. Kíli gritted his teeth as he stood. The pain was immediate, but he could work through it. He had to be ready to fight when the Master's men entered the house. He took up his sword as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

The men didn't bother with any pleasantries and burst through the door, breaking the lock. Kíli held his sword at the ready, hoping the toll that merely standing was taking on him did not show. There were three of them. Normally, Kíli thought he could take on all three at once without too much trouble. With his leg in the condition it was in, he thought he would be lucky to take one down, although he wouldn't admit it.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, his voice gravely with pain.

"The Master has sent us to take the children of the troublemaker Bard into custody," the man in the front declared, stepping forward. "If you give them up, no one will be hurt."

Kíli gripped his sword tighter. "I will not allow you to lay a single hand on the children," he snarled. The man in the front smiled slightly, the cruel expression setting Kíli's nerves on edge.

"Who asked if you would allow it?" he asked. As if that were some sort of signal, the other two men threw themselves at Kíli, who immediately burst into motion. He tried his best to keep from putting too much weight on his injured leg, but he really didn't have much of a choice. His sword slashed though the air, almost finding its mark at one of the men's necks, but the man blocked the blow with his sword. Kíli moved to swing again, but changed direction of his sword mid-swing to block the other man's sword. His leg was already screaming in protest, and the fighting had barely started. Kíli knew he couldn't last too long. But he was equally certain he would fight as long as he could to protect the children in the other room.

Kíli managed to disarm one of the men he was fighting and took the opportunity to slam the pommel of his sword into the man's head. He fell to the floor in a heap, unconscious. The man who had been in charge unsheathed his sword as he ran over to take the man's place, temporarily stopping his ransacking of the house in an attempt to find the children. Kíli was thankful that the door to the bedroom was tucked in a corner and mostly hidden from view unless you knew it was there.

"You're favoring your right leg," the leader of the men remarked as he swung at Kíli's head in a slash that Kíli was only barely able to block. "Why is that, dwarf?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Kíli spat. The man raised an eyebrow as the other man swung at Kíli again. Suddenly, without warning, the leader slammed his body into Kíli's right side. The pain was immediate and overwhelming. Kíli's right leg gave out under him and he dropped to his knees, barely able to hold his sword through the burning waves of pain radiating from his leg.

"I thought something like that might happen," the leader stated smugly. "You," he barked at the other man. "Search this house until you find the children."

"You won't find them," Kíli spat, trying to struggle to his feet. The leader swung his sword again. Kíli ducked to avoid it, knowing he wouldn't be able to raise his sword in time. It was a bad idea; as he fell to his hands and knees to dodge the blow, the leader pressed his foot into Kíli's left side and pushed hard, sending Kíli sprawling to the floor, his right leg suddenly trapped under more of his weight. By the gods, it hurt. Kíli tried to scramble back to his feet, but before he could, the leader's foot slammed into his stomach, causing all of the air in Kíli's lungs to leave with a _whoosh_. Kíli was glad to hear that, as they had throughout the fight, the children in the bedroom were silent. He would sooner die than do anything to help the Master's men find Bard's children.

"Where are the children?" the leader demanded. Kíli lifted his head to spit at him. The leader kicked him again, injuring at least one rib, from the sickening crack that echoed through the house. Kíli let out a pained gasp, but refused to let any other words pass his lips. The next time the leader tried to kick him, he was ready. Before the foot made contact with Kíli's chest, he grabbed it and pulled, yanking the leader off-balance and sending him crashing to the floor. He had hoped the fall would knock the man unconscious, but he had no such luck. The leader got back to his feet with a furious growl, brandishing his sword.

"I'll kill you!" he shouted, raising his sword. Kíli's mouth went dry. Of all the ways he had thought he might die on this quest, this was not one he had ever considered. But the fury in the leader's eyes told Kíli that he was deadly serious in his threat. Kíli sent a silent prayer of forgiveness to Fíli, Thorin, and his mother Dís as he watched the sword begin to descend.

Then an arrow flew out of nowhere and knocked the leader's sword out of his hands.

Tauriel leapt through the window in a blaze of motion, quickly incapacitating both of the men left in the house, then dragging their unconscious bodies out of the house. Kíli tried to struggle upright, but his chest burned - he definitely had at least one cracked rib - and his leg refused to hold any of his weight. To his shame, he was still lying on the floor when Tauriel reentered the house.

"Are you badly injured?" Tauriel demanded, kneeling at Kíli's side. Kíli batted her hands away, embarrassed by his own weakness.

"I'll live," he replied, his voice hoarse. "Just a cracked rib or two, and my leg disapproved of the fighting. It's nothing serious."

"Where are the children?" Tauriel asked as she helped Kíli to his feet and half-dragged, half-helped him over to the bed.

"In the bedroom," Kíli replied, gesturing vaguely.

"Are they safe?" Tauriel demanded. Kíli nodded weakly.

"I think so," he replied. "Bain?" he called, raising his voice. "Sigrid, Tilda? You can come out now. The house is safe."

Kíli heard some scrambling on the other side of the door and a few scraping sounds of furniture being moved that told him they had done as he asked and barricaded the door, then Bain peeked his head out of the bedroom.

"Are they gone?" he asked. Kíli nodded wearily. Bain opened the door fully and Tilda ran out, rushing over to Kíli with a worried look on her face.

"Did they hurt you?" she demanded. Kíli offered her a slight smile.

"Nothing serious, little one," he replied, tousling her hair slightly. "Don't worry about me."

"Where is Óin?" Tauriel asked Kíli, looking concerned, as Sigrid pulled Tilda away from the two of them.

"Out trying to find more kingsfoil," Kíli replied shortly. As the adrenaline began to fade, Kíli found that his ribs were becoming increasingly painful, sending stabbing pains through his chest every time he tried to draw breath. Tauriel seemed to pick up on Kíli's increasing discomfort, judging from the look of concern on her face. Kíli considered trying to say something to ease her worry, but before he could figure out what that actually might be, Óin entered the house, frowning at the broken latch.

"What in Mahal's name happened?" he demanded, quickly taking in Kíli's discarded sword on the floor, the look of pain on his face, and the look of concern on Tauriel's. Kíli shot him a wan smile.

"It would seem that, through everything, my capacity for attracting trouble has not diminished in the least."

"What did he do?" Óin asked Tauriel with a sigh. Kíli made an indignant noise of protest.

"What makes you think _I _did anything! The children and I were here, minding our own business until you returned, when three of the Master's men came and declared that they were going to arrest Bard's children! I was holding them off until Tauriel came."

"When I entered, he was on the floor with a sword about to chop off his head," Tauriel put in. Óin sighed.

"Your mother was right in calling you reckless," he muttered. Kíli huffed.

"I don't understand why everyone thinks that," he complained. Óin ignored him, instead grabbing at his shirt. Kíli's eyes went wide as he batted him away.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. Óin glared at Kíli.

"As if I can't tell you've got injured ribs, lad. Let me see if they're broken." Kíli shot a look at Tauriel, hating that he felt embarrassed by the thought of her being there. Normally, he wouldn't have minded taking his shirt off, especially in front of the object of his affections. But he still kept thinking of his utter stupidity in asking Tauriel if she could love him, and he knew that his bruised and beaten torso wouldn't be a pretty sight. As if she understood Kíli's worry - Kíli hoped she didn't - Tauriel went over to the other side of the room as Óin yanked at Kíli's shirt again. This time, Kíli relented.

As Kíli had expected, his torso wasn't a pretty sight. Bruises were beginning to form all over his chest, turning the normal skin into a canvas of greens, purples, and browns. Óin probed at Kíli's ribs as gently as he could, but it still hurt when he brushed over injured ones.

"One rib is definitely cracked," he declared after a moment. Kíli yanked his shirt back down. "Another one might be as well. But you've got some impressive bruising there, laddie. That'll hurt for quite a while."

"It already does," Kíli groaned. Tauriel came over, holding a cup.

"Drink this," she told Kíli, holding it out. Kíli accepted the cup cautiously, but didn't drink from it. "It's for the pain," Tauriel added.

"What did you use to make it?" Óin asked.

"Athelas, chamomile, and bay leaves," she replied, gesturing for Kíli to drink it. He didn't.

"Doesn't chamomile make you drowsy?" he asked, remembering that Dís would make chamomile tea for him when he was having trouble sleeping. Tauriel nodded.

"Yes, but it can also help with pain," she replied. Kíli tried to hand the cup back to her.

"I don't want to sleep," he replied, shaking his head. "I need to be alert."

"How alert can you be while in pain?" Tauriel retorted. "You need to rest. You will be of more use to everyone if you are well-rested than if you push yourself ragged."

"We'll wake you if anything happens," Óin added. Kíli sighed, looking from Tauriel to Óin.

"You're going to make me drink this even if I don't want to, aren't you?" he asked with a sigh. Tauriel's lips twitched into the slightest smile. Kíli sighed and drained the cup. Tauriel's mixture tasted much better than Óin's, not that Kíli would ever tell him that. "Happy now?" he demanded, handing the cup back to Tauriel. She put the cup on the table without answering and slipped into the bedroom, where the children had returned.

"Your elf maid is surely something," Óin remarked. Kíli felt himself blush.

"She's not _mine_," he protested. Óin smirked.

"But she will be soon, if you get your way about it," he added. Kíli's blush deepened.

"Shut up," he mumbled, slowly maneuvering himself into a more comfortable sleeping position. The herbs that Tauriel had given him were already beginning to take effect, and almost before Kíli knew it, he had drifted off into sleep.

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><p><strong>According to the way I prefer to calculate dwarf ages, Kíli is 18 in human years, as he's canonically 77. I believe dwarves come of age at 75 (18 in human years). As for the ages of Bard's children, I made them up, loosely based on the ages of the actual actors, considering Bain's birth year is never mentioned and Sigrid and Tilda aren't even in the books.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Kíli was still sleeping when Tauriel heard footsteps outside the house. She shot a look at Óin, who nodded before going into the bedroom to protect the children, who were also sleeping, and closing the door. Tauriel reached for her knife, gripping it tightly as she slipped over to the door on soundless feet. She peeked out the curtain as she heard heavy footfalls on the stairs.

The approaching figures were the dwarf in the funny hat - Bofur, she thought, but she wasn't quite sure - and the other dwarf, Kíli's brother. Fíli. Tauriel let go of her knife and opened the door for them as they reached the top of the stairs.

"What happened to the door?" Fíli asked immediately, frowning.

"The Master's men came for Bard's children," Tauriel replied quietly. "Kíli held them off until I arrived."

Fíli's face immediately twisted with worry and no small amount of anger. "Did they injure him?" he demanded in a hiss. "Where was Óin? Did you at least find your dratted elf princeling while my brother was being attacked?"

"Lad," Bofur murmured, putting a calming hand on Fíli's arm. Fíli shook it off. "Fíli, please. What happened is no one's fault but the Master's."

"I did not find Legolas, although I did find some of his arrows and his trail." Tauriel answered Fíli as if Bofur hadn't spoken, as his placating words had clearly done no good. "I believe he followed one of the orcs away from Lake-town. I did not follow his trail. Óin was out getting more athelas to treat Kíli's leg. And the injuries your brother sustained were bruising on his chest and one or two cracked ribs. He's been given a mixture for the pain and is currently sleeping."

Fíli glared at Tauriel for a moment before stomping over to his brother's side. Bofur sighed. "He's very worried about his brother," he explained to Tauriel. She nodded.

"I understand," she replied. Bofur shook his head with a small frown.

"Beggin' your pardon, lass, but I don't know that you do." Tauriel frowned slightly. "Fíli and Kíli have been together for Kíli's entire life, and nearly all of Fíli's. They watch out for each other, and it's very hard for Fíli to feel this helpless when it comes to his brother's life." Bofur shrugged. "Both of the lads can be overprotective of one another, but they always mean it well. They've almost never been separated. Fíli has always taken it upon himself to protect his brother, so he's blamin' himself for what's happened to Kíli now."

"I understand that he is upset, and I do not blame him for his actions," Tauriel assured Bofur. "But you were right. I did not understand the depths of his feelings. You have my thanks for your explanation."

"I just don't want you to be too harsh on the lad," Bofur replied, shooting a worried look at Fíli, who was sitting by Kíli's side. "You didn't see the way he was before you healed Kíli, but I can tell you he was beside himself. He just worries."

"Well, someone ought to," Óin put in, joining the conversation. He had slipped back out of the bedroom while Tauriel and Fíli had been talking, but he hadn't spoken. "Without Dís here, Fíli is the only one to look after the lad as much as he needs looking after."

"What of Thorin?" Tauriel asked, frowning slightly. "Is he not their uncle?"

Óin scoffed. "Mahal knows Thorin doesn't worry about his nephews."

"Óin, that's not true," Bofur scolded, frowning. "Thorin cares about the boys."

"Aye, but he cares about Erebor more," Óin retorted. Bofur looked uncomfortable, but didn't argue. "Kíli wouldn't have hidden his injury had he not been worried about disappointing Thorin. And now that Thorin's gone off to Erebor without him, he probably thinks he has."

"Was Kíli not injured while saving you from orcs?" Tauriel asked, frowning. "They would have slaughtered you, even with our aid, if he had not opened that gate."

Óin and Bofur shared a look. "Lass," Bofur began cautiously, "the dynamic between Thorin and his nephews has always been…strained."

"Thorin doesn't know how he can be their king and their uncle at the same time," Óin added. "He's the closest thing the lads have to a father, as their true father died when they were young, but he's never been good at acting like it."

"Now, that's not to say he doesn't love his nephews," Bofur put in quickly. "He does, very much, but he's not very good at showin' it."

"It is difficult to be a father and groom an heir at the same time," Tauriel defended. "I have seen much the same with King Thranduil and Legolas." For a moment, Bofur and Óin didn't respond. Then…

"Lass, I'm not sayin' you're wrong, but don't ever let Thorin hear you compare him to the Elvenking," Bofur told Tauriel seriously.

"I cannot imagine King Thranduil would take kindly to the comparison either," she replied dryly. "There is much prejudice between our peoples."

"Are you three just going to gossip all day, or shall we plan how to free Bard?" Fíli demanded irritably. Tauriel, Bofur, and Óin all turned to him.

"Should we not wait for Kíli to wake?" Bofur suggested. A hoarse chuckle was his reply.

"I've been awake for quite some time now," Kíli stated, pushing himself into a more upright position with a wince. "And my brother is right. Bofur, Fíli, tell us what you discovered about where Bard is being held."

"He's being held in a cell, in a building near the armory," Fíli said, shooting a worried look at his brother. "It's not in the main part of Lake-town, so the only real way to get there is to cross the bridge."

"Or to use a boat," Bofur added, "although that would take some doin'."

"How did you find him?" Tauriel asked with a frown. Bofur shrugged.

"Wasn't all that hard, really. The guards of this town aren't the smartest, you know. We followed them to the gaol and heard them talking about Bard."

"I counted four men, although there might have been more I did not see," Fíli added. "But the ones I did see seemed rather drunk."

"So shall we make a plan, then?" Kíli asked, looking eager. "We'll have to rescue Bard, and quickly, then we can ask him where he hid the Black Arrow, and-"

"Excuse me?" Kíli stopped abruptly at Bain's interruption. "I-I heard you talking," Bain added quickly. "I couldn't sleep."

"Of course," Kíli replied, gesturing for Bain to come over. He approached slowly. "Do you have an idea?"

"Well, no, not exactly," Bain replied. "But I do know where the Black Arrow is. My father gave it to me to hide while we were trying to escape the Master's guards."

There was stunned silence for a moment, then Fíli broke it with a low growl.

"Why didn't you _tell_ us, boy?" he demanded furiously. Bain shrank back. Kíli gave his brother a dirty look and put a hand out towards Bain.

"We're not angry, I promise," he told him as Bain came back over slowly. "Except maybe Fíli, but he's rather high-strung at the moment. Ignore him. But tell us, Bain, do you remember where you hid the arrow?" Bain nodded. "Can you find it?" Again, Bain nodded. "Good," Kíli replied, smiling at the boy. "Bofur, can you take Bain to go fetch the Black Arrow?"

"Gladly," Bofur replied, nodding. "Come with me, lad," he added, gesturing at Bain. "We'll be back soon." Bain shot Kíli a nervous look.

"Go with Bofur," Kíli urged. "He'll keep you safe. And we'll watch out for Sigrid and Tilda here. You don't have to worry." Bain nodded slightly before following Bofur out of the house. Tauriel scrutinized Kíli for a moment as the door closed.

"You are very good with the children," she remarked. Kíli looked slightly embarrassed.

"It's because he's still a child himself," Óin grumbled. Kíli blushed.

"Óin!" he protested in a hiss. Tauriel allowed a hint of the amusement she felt show on her face as her lips curved in the suggestion of a smile. She was struck by how many times she had smiled while with Kíli, especially considering the situation. She was not a naturally cheerful person, nor was she inclined to being easygoing. And yet, while with Kíli, it was easy for her to forget about the problems facing them and smile at his antics, an unburdened, younger elf once more.

"I find your childishness refreshing, in these times," Tauriel told Kíli honestly. His cheeks went even redder. Fíli let out an impatient noise.

"Shall we return to our plans? We do still intend to rescue Bard, do we not?"

"Don't be so harsh," Kíli murmured to his brother. Fíli ignored him.

"You and Bofur were the only ones to see the gaol, lad," Óin reminded Fíli. "Tell us how you would sneak into it."

"Bofur might have been right in suggesting a boat," Fíli admitted. "It would be difficult, but if we could sneak one of us into the gaol, then we could escape in the boat. It would be much easier than escaping across the bridge. The bridge can be blocked off easily, but if we had a boat, then we could get away."

"How do you plan to get one of us into the gaol?" Óin asked. Fíli frowned.

"I don't know," he replied. "If we could have some sort of diversion, or-"

"I can create a diversion," Tauriel offered. The three dwarves all turned to look at her.

"I assumed you were going to go after Legolas?" Kíli asked tentatively. Tauriel's lips thinned slightly.

"We have to rescue Bard to slay Smaug, and to save the people of Lake-town. If my help is required, I cannot help but put the town and the lives of all those Smaug would kill over one prince, even though he is my friend."

"How would you distract the guards in the gaol?" Fíli asked. Tauriel fixed her gaze on him, causing the dwarf to shrink back slightly.

"You have heard rumors and stories of the Silvan elves, I assume?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "You escaped the dungeons because the keeper of the keys was drunk. If the Master's guards are the same sort of idiotic sots you can find among my people, I believe I can figure out a way to distract them."

"It would take time for them to become intoxicated enough for them not to notice their prisoner escaping," Kíli put in. Tauriel nodded slightly.

"Yes, but the alcohol would distract them long enough that I could incapacitate them."

"Not wearing that armor, lass," Óin put in, frowning. "And not with your ears showing as they are. You're clearly not a woman of Lake-town, and it would be hard for someone not to realize you're an elf."

"Yes, and do you not think these men have heard stories of the elves?" Tauriel asked, her expression turning slightly predatory. "I do not believe my race will make them any less likely to accept the distraction I offer."

"Where do you plan to find the alcohol?" Kíli asked, frowning. He didn't seen to like the plan, but Tauriel was unsure as to why. She fleetingly wondered if it had to do with the feelings he had spoken of before, but she dismissed the thought quickly. Kíli had been delirious and close to death when he had spoken. She could not hold him to anything he had said in such a state.

"Da has some wine in the cabinet," Sigrid offered, stepping out of the bedroom. Clearly, Bain was not the only one who had been listening to the planning. "It's not much, and it's not very strong, but it's something."

"And I have some elvish wine," Tauriel added, taking out a wineskin. Kíli arched an eyebrow, which Tauriel pointedly ignored. "It's far more potent than normal wine. If we mix this with Bard's wine, then add some water to the mixture, we can create an intoxicating enough mixture to catch the guard's attention."

"Could you add some chamomile or some other herbs?" Kíli suggested, looking to Óin. "If you disguise the taste of the sleeping potion with the wine, then you could drug the guards as well as intoxicate them."

"Clever thought, lad," Óin complimented. Kíli shrugged, although Tauriel could see he was pleased by the praise.

"Fíli and I once used that idea in Ered Luin, to pull a prank on Thorin and Dwalin. They were furious with us, but their expressions were worth it." A hint of a smile appeared on Fíli's face at the memory. Tauriel was curious, but decided against asking for details.

"Shall we prepare the mixture?" Tauriel asked, turning to Óin. Sigrid silently crossed over to the kitchen, pulling a jug out of a cabinet. Óin went over to put together their concoction of herbs, and Tauriel followed him, sending one last look at Kíli and Fíli, whose heads were bent close in quiet conversation. She wondered what they were speaking of, but thought it was most likely not a conversation she would be welcome to hear.

But it wasn't her fault that elves had superior hearing to most other races, and thus she could pick up the words in the soft conversation between the brothers.

"You have no need to be so harsh with everyone," Kíli was scolding his brother.

"I have not the patience that you do, especially not in such a situation," Fíli replied, his scowl clear in his words. "You are injured, our Company is in danger, and we have no defense against the dragon that will soon attack this town."

"Be that as it may, you can still be kind," Kíli replied mildly. "And we do have a defense against Smaug. Bain is going to collect the Black Arrow with Bofur." Something in Fíli's expression must have spurred Kíli's next words. "You needn't be so harsh with the boy. He's young and inexperienced, neither of which is a crime."

"I know, Kíli." Fíli sounded tired. "He should not even be here. But he is, and he must do his part."

"We're all doing our part," Kíli replied. "All of us are helping in this effort."

"Even Tauriel," Fíli added, a hint of teasing in his voice. Tauriel heard a light thud, but wasn't quite sure where it came from.

"Don't tease," Kíli grumbled. "And don't you dare even think of telling her."

"You did a good job of that yourself," Fíli teased. Kíli groaned.

"Oh, don't remind me of what I said," he groused. "I need not your reminders of my foolishness. And that's neither here nor there. Tauriel _is_ helping us, and you ought to be kinder to her. To everyone."

"Alright, I'll be nicer to your elf friend," Fíli told Kíli, his tone clearly amused. Kíli groaned again.

"You're a terrible brother," he complained. As the brothers delved into good-natured teasing, Tauriel refocused on her task at hand, ignoring the background noise of their discussion. She wasn't quite sure what to do with the knowledge she had gained. Kíli was clearly embarrassed by what he had told her, apparently regretting it. But there had been something in the nature of the teasing…

Tauriel shook herself. Now was not the time to ponder such things. She had more pressing demands on her time, as did they all. Later, if they all survived, Tauriel could devote her time to unraveling the puzzle of the young dwarf she had healed, but until that time, if it ever did come to pass, Tauriel would have to push the issue aside.

Tauriel began to pour some of her elvish wine to a new jug, adding some of Bard's wine as well. She began mixing it with a single-minded focus that was much more than the simple motion required, but she needed something with which to distract herself.

It would do Tauriel no good to think too much about her relationship with Kíli, especially considering there was no guarantees that either of them would survive the week.

* * *

><p><strong>The layout of Lake-town in this chapter is influenced by the map from the Gamemaster Screen booklet for the game <em>One Ring<em>. You can find it, as I did, by googling for a map of Lake-town.**

**Much of the dynamic between Kíli, Fíli, and Thorin is influenced by interviews with their actors.**


	4. Chapter 4

"How much longer will this rescue _take_?" Bain demanded for the thousandth time. Kíli gritted his teeth. He could not be upset or impatient with Bain. After all, his father was the one that was being held prisoner, that they were rescuing. He had the right to be worried and impatient.

But that didn't make his incessant questions any less irritating.

"They have to be careful about it," Kíli told Bain, as he had done many times before. He wanted to be patient with the boy, he really did, but the mixture Óin had given him for the pain was starting to wear off, making Kíli even more irritable as the pain in his leg and chest steadily increased. And while Bain had to be worried for his father, Kíli was anxiously awaiting the return of Fíli, Bofur, and Tauriel, while also being worried for Bard, whose freedom was almost certainly necessary for their survival. He was the only one who could fire the Black Arrow from the wind-lance; none of the dwarves but Kíli had good enough aim, and Kíli couldn't stand long enough to do it. As for Tauriel, she undoubtedly had good enough aim, but dwarfish wind-lances were not built for elves, and they only had one arrow. It was Bard's birthright to shoot the Black Arrow to kill Smaug, and dwarves cared for birthrights quite a bit. It may have just been superstition, but Kíli had a feeling the Black Arrow would work better for Bard than for any of the others.

_The Black Arrow._ It lay innocently on the table, as it had since Bofur and Bain had returned with it, before Bofur left again to help rescue Bard. Looking at the arrow, one wouldn't think it was the thing that may decide their fate, whether they killed Smaug or all died horrible, fiery deaths. Kíli tore his gaze away from it. Staring at it wouldn't do anything to help them.

"Master Kíli?" Sigrid asked tentatively. Kíli offered her a reassuring smile, although he didn't feel especially qualified to reassure anyone at the moment. "Do you think Tauriel's plan will work?"

Kíli clenched his teeth as he nodded, trying to look as unconcerned as possible. Did he think Tauriel's plan would work? Yes, most likely. It was a sound plan. Did he like it? Not at all. The thought of the men of Lake-town looking at her with lewd gazes made fuzzy by alcohol, thinking she was theirs to touch and stare at… It made Kíli want to be sick.

"Do you need something for the pain, lad?" Óin asked Kíli in an undertone, apparently mistaking Kíli's expression of disgust for one of a more physical discomfort. Kíli shook his head stiffly. Yes, the pain was beginning to resurface, but Kíli didn't want another of Óin's infernal concoctions. If something went wrong with the rescue, Kíli had to be as ready as the others to leave immediately. He might not be able to walk unaided, but he would not be insensible as they fled.

Óin looked disgruntled. "If you're in pain, lad, then just tell me. It'll do you no good to refuse anything to help when you need aid."

"I'm not in pain," Kíli replied, hoping Óin wouldn't call him out on the lie. "I'm just worried about Fíli and the others."

"Worrying won't help anything," Óin replied with a sigh. "There's no use in dwelling on what could be. Your brother and your elf maid are resourceful, and Bofur can talk his way out of anything."

"Tauriel's not mine!" Kíli protested. Óin chuckled.

"Not yet, perhaps, but you wait and see, laddie."

Kíli sighed. He would not convince Óin, it seemed. But it seemed clear to Kíli that Tauriel did not see him the way he saw her. He had declared his love for her clearly while half-delirious, and she had done nothing about it, had not even _mentioned_ it. She clearly did not feel the same. Although, to tell the truth, Kíli almost wished she would at least say something about his declaration, even if it was simply to tell him that she didn't care for him in that way. He had a vague memory of Tauriel's hand in his, but he had dismissed that as a dream. Still, at his most desperate moments, when he did entertain the thought that she cared for him, Kíli looked at that memory as encouragement. He wanted to know, whatever Tauriel said. He needed to be sure.

"Will you at least allow me to make you something?" Óin asked Kíli with a frown, apparently thinking that Kíli's long silence had been due to pain. "I would not have you in pain when I can do something about it."

"I would not have anything that will dull my senses," Kíli stipulated. "I am not in great pain, Óin."

"I will make you something weaker," Óin compromised, crossing the room before Kíli could even reply. Kíli sighed.

"Master Dwarf?" Tilda asked, sidling up to Kíli. He immediately put on a smile for the girl.

"Please, call me Kíli," he insisted. Tilda looked down, a shy expression on her face.

"Kíli?" she asked, looking up at Kíli through her lashes. "Would you tell me another story?"

"I would love to," Kíli replied, patting the bed next to him. Tilda immediately pulled herself up onto it, settling in next to Kíli. As she shifted, she accidentally pushed her body flush against Kíli's right side, digging an elbow into his injured ribs and a knee into the arrow wound on his leg.

Kíli's world went white with pain as he gasped for air, suddenly unable to breathe. "Kíli?" Tilda cried, sounding terrified. Kíli tried to answer her, to reassure him that he was alright, he just needed a moment, but the pain was overwhelming. Kíli heard Tilda start to cry as someone else said something that he thought was related to him, but he couldn't focus on the words. The pain refused to ebb. Kíli thought he might vomit from it, which he desperately didn't want to do.

Suddenly, there were arms around Kíli's head, pulling it upright. Someone began to pour some sort of potion down Kíli's throat. He choked and gagged around it, unable to swallow. "Drink the damn thing!" he heard Óin's voice yell as if from very far away. Kíli forced himself to gulp, still spluttering as Óin's concoction slid down his throat. "Can you stay still, lad?" Kíli heard Óin ask, and only then was he aware that he was thrashing around, which probably didn't help with the pain. He tried to still his body with little effect. "Bain!" Óin yelled. Kíli felt hands clamping down on his right leg soon after that. The potion was beginning to take effect, he thought; the pain was slowly diminishing. Kíli was vaguely aware of Tilda sobbing and Sigrid quietly comforting her. He wanted to regain control of himself and help in comforting the little girl, to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but he couldn't.

Then, suddenly, a new set of hands was tenderly tracing Kíli's face. He arched into the gentle touch, unable to help the soft whimper when the touch was rescinded. A moment later, he felt something pressing into his leg. He gasped in pain at the added sensation over the wound, but a moment later he heard a chant in a lyrical language, a chant that he found vaguely familiar, as if it came from a half forgotten dream. After a moment, he thought he recognized the language as the tongue of the elves, meaning it had to be Tauriel's hands on his leg. Of course it was Tauriel. Kíli was shocked it had taken him so long to recognize her touch.

The pain began to ebb much more quickly. Kíli opened his eyes, only then actually putting together that they had been squeezed shut since the pain began. Tauriel was pulling away from his leg, looking relieved when she saw his eyes open. "Kíli," she said softly. Óin was putting a new bandage on Kíli's leg behind her; Kíli hadn't noticed when the old one had been taken off. "What happened?"

"It was my fault," Tilda sobbed. Tauriel turned to the little girl, looking confused.

"It was not your fault," Kíli replied hoarsely. "It was an accident. I should have been more careful."

"I didn't mean to do it," Tilda sobbed. Kíli held his arms out toward her. "No!" Tilda cried, shrinking away. "I won't hurt you again!"

"Tilda, child, what happened?" Tauriel asked quietly. Tilda looked up at her.

"K-Kíli was going to tell me another story. I was going up to lie with him on the bed. I didn't mean to hurt him, I promise!" Tauriel seemed to be able to put together the pieces, looking over at Kíli. "I'm so sorry."

"You are not to blame, little one," Tauriel told Tilda firmly. "I looked at Kíli's leg and realized that I had not expelled all the poison before, as I thought I had. If not for this, I may not have noticed until it had become much more serious. In a way, you spared him a great deal of pain, and may have even saved his life."

"But I hurt him!" Tilda sobbed. Kíli reached out, ignoring the pain, and took Tilda's hand.

"It's not your fault, Tilda." Tilda still looked upset. Sigrid stepped up, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" she asked. Tilda nodded slowly. "Come with me," she urged. "I'll get you something to eat." Tilda followed Sigrid away, still looking guilty. Kíli sighed, wincing as the deep breath hurt his ribs.

"Milady?" Bain asked Tauriel, a frown on his face. Tauriel turned, looking slightly amused.

"I am not a lady, but what is it you wish to ask me?"

"If you have returned, then where is my father?"

The same thought occurred to Kíli after Bain said it, stunning him with his own negligence. Tauriel smiled softly.

"Your father was free, last I saw him. He went with Bofur and Fíli into a boat, to return to the house that way. I left the gaol over the bridge and ran back here. There was not enough room in the boat for all four of us, and Fíli was worried about what could be happening here. Apparently with good reason," Tauriel added, giving Kíli a look. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, so now it's my fault that I was shot with a poisoned arrow and had a deadly poison in my veins?" he protested, his voice still rough from the pain. Tauriel looked down.

"The lingering poison is my fault. I should have removed it all." Kíli huffed. This had not been his intention.

"Oh, don't blame yourself. You did what you could, and that saved my life. Anyway, I'm still here, I'm alive, and you've removed the poison again. No harm done."

"Are my father and the others coming back soon?" Bain interrupted. Kíli was almost glad of it; it was not the time for him to flirt with Tauriel, and doing so would most likely only result in heartbreak, but he couldn't help it.

"They should be back in a few minutes," Tauriel replied smoothly, as if Bain had interrupted nothing. "I believe they planned to take a more roundabout route, so as not to draw suspicion."

"How long will that take?" Bain demanded insolently.

"Bain!" Sigrid snapped from across the room. "I apologize for my brother, milady. He has no sense of _patience_." Bain looked down, but the expression on his face was more annoyed than contrite. Kíli hid a smile.

"He is worried for his father," Tauriel replied mildly. "It is perfectly understandable. But Bard will return soon. Fíli and Bofur will bring him here."

"Tilda, did you hear that?" Sigrid asked her little sister, who still looked upset. "Da will be back soon!" The news seemed to cheer Tilda up a bit.

"And Bofur and my brother are well?" Kíli asked, suddenly worried. If they weren't, he was sure Tauriel would have said something, but still…

Tauriel nodded, dismissing Kíli's worries. "The rescue went as planned. The guards were asleep in minutes, and Fíli and I broke Bard out of his cell easily. They went with Bofur in the boat, and I returned here."

"And we have the Black Arrow," Kíli added. "So now we just need to figure out a way for Bard to take the Black Arrow up to the wind-lance, then he can slay Smaug if he is not slain by the Company."

"When this is all over, I should like to have you see Lord Elrond, of Imladris," Tauriel told Kíli. He wrinkled his nose.

"Why would you take me there? All those elves seemed rather conceited. All green foods and harp and flute through the entire dinner."

"You have been to Imladris?" Tauriel asked, surprised. Kíli nodded.

"We passed it on our quest. Lord Elrond was good enough to give us food and shelter, although the food was rather lacking. Why would you take me to him?"

"Lord Elrond is highly skilled at healing," Tauriel replied. "He could do more to heal your leg, I am sure. Tell me, what is Imladris like?"

"You have never been?" Kíli asked, surprised. Tauriel shook her head.

"I have barely left Mirkwood before now," she admitted. "The elves of Mirkwood do not often go beyond its borders."

"Truly?" Kíli asked, surprised. "Tell me-"

But Kíli had no chance to ask his question, as he abruptly stopped speaking at the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside. Tauriel stood silently and slipped over to the window, peeking out. She pulled back and opened the door.

"Da!" Tilda cried as Bard entered the room, looking a big haggard, but overall no worse for wear after his time in the gaol. "You're back!"

"Hello, darling," Bard replied, smiling at Tilda as she ran across the room to hug him. "Have you taken good care of your brother and sister?" Tilda nodded eagerly. Sigrid and Bain had approached Bard and they both embraced their father happily.

"It's wonderful to have you back, Da," Sigrid told Bard, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Are you well?"

"I am unharmed, my dear," Bard replied. "But I fear the same cannot be said for the door. What has happened to it?"

The children were all quick to explain, all talking over each other. "The Master's men came-"

"-they were so cruel!-"

"-they said they were going to arrest us-"

"-they broke down the door-"

"-Kíli fought them off-"

"-and he was still injured, Da!"

Bard turned to Kíli, who had managed to, albeit painfully, maneuver himself into a more upright position on the bed. "I was already aware that I owed you and your kinsmen, as well as the Lady Elf, for my freedom. Am I now to understand that I also owe you for my children's?"

"It's really not as big a deal as the children say," Kíli replied modestly. "The Master's men came and I held them off until Tauriel arrived and got rid of them."

"I owe you a debt, in that case," Bard replied, bowing his head in Kíli's direction. Kíli shook his head, a bit embarrassed.

"You owe me nothing. You saved my life, remember. No one else would take me in. You do not owe me a thing for what I have done."

Bard shook his head. "You do not have children, Master Dwarf, but perhaps someday, you shall." Kíli hated that his eyes automatically flickered to Tauriel. "And if you do, you will understand that I owe you everything."

"I was glad to do what I could for your children," Kíli replied honestly. "I have always enjoyed spending time with those younger than myself, and your children are undoubtedly much easier to handle than some dwarrows I could mention." Bard arched an eyebrow.

"Then children among your kind must be absolutely impossible, for I cannot imagine my children being considered easy in any regard if not for that," he replied teasingly. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda immediately began to protest. Kíli watched with a soft smile, glad to see the family reunited once more. He had not lied when he said he was fond of the children, and he found Bard to be a good, honorable man. He was glad to have helped them.

But of course, the peace was not to last. Suddenly, the ground rumbled, reminding Kíli of when a mine collapsed in Ered Luin. But this time, there was no mine beneath him. His stomach twisted as a horrible growl filled the air. He didn't need Fíli running to the window to confirm what was happening for him to know.

"It's Smaug!"

* * *

><p><strong>Imladris is the elven name for Rivendell. The reason Tauriel wants to take Kíli to see Elrond, although it's not explicitly mentioned here, is that Elrond has one of the Three Rings (the Rings of Power given to the elves). His ring, Vilya, is the most powerful of the elf rings, and, while its exact power is never confirmed, many speculate it has the power to heal, as that's what the rings were made for.<strong>

**The idea that Tauriel and the other Mirkwood elves do not often leave Mirkwood is a guess based on Thranduil's actions of abandoning the rest of the world to the orcs.**

**Kíli's wound still having poison in it isn't especially unlikely, given Tauriel's inexperience with healing Morgul wounds.**


	5. Chapter 5

Everyone immediately raced over to the window where Fíli was, leaving Kíli sitting on the bed. "He looks like he's coming this way!" Tilda cried. Kíli's heart clenched. Despite the fact that he knew it was close to impossible, he had hoped that Smaug would not attack Lake-town. "Da, what are we going to do?"

"Bard," Kíli called, letting authority fill his tone. Everyone turned to look at him. He was trying to do his best impression of Thorin. "Take the Black Arrow to the wind-lance. Don't use it until you're certain you have a clear shot." Bard nodded, grabbing the Black Arrow off the table. He faltered at the door.

"What about my children?"

"We'll protect them," Kíli promised, although both he and Bard knew there was only so much they could do. "I have a suspicion people are going to come here for guidance, as you were the one who warned about the dragon being awoken. We will convince everyone to flee to the plain between here and Erebor. Smaug is dramatic and currently far enough away that we can make a run for it. If people can flee and hide on the plain, then Smaug will come here, thinking he's going to kill all of the townsfolk. He wants the town burned away to nothing. If he sees a few people fleeing while on his way, he'll ignore them in favor of the bigger prize."

"Are you sure?" Bard demanded. Kíli nodded.

"As sure as I can be," he replied. "Trust me, we will do everything in our power to protect your children."

Bard turned to leave, although he didn't look happy about it. "Bard?" Kíli called out at the last second. He turned, gripping the Black Arrow so tightly his knuckles were white. "You are not your ancestor. You can make this shot." Bard nodded.

"I will kill the dragon," he declared, turning and running out the door.

Kíli turned his attention to the children. "We're going to have to leave Lake-town," he told them. "Pack anything that you can't live without, and do it quickly. Don't have anything too heavy. I know it's hard, but you must trust me." Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda were quick to do as Kíli said. Óin, he noticed, was already beginning to sweep the herbs they had into a bag. Tauriel was collecting weapons and possessions from around the room. "Bofur, pack food," Kíli called. Bofur quickly began to grab food out of the cabinets and pile it into a bag. Fíli came over to Kíli's side.

"Was that your Uncle Thorin impression that you used on Bard?" he asked. Kíli nodded, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Fíli quickly moved to help him. "You've gotten better at it."

"Thank you," Kíli replied, shooting Fíli a thin smile.

"People are beginning to gather outside," Bofur called, peering out the window.

"How exactly do you plan to convince them to leave their homes?" Fíli asked. Kíli bit his lip.

"I'm not entirely certain," he replied honestly. Fíli sighed.

"Well, I suppose you always have done your best when forced to improvise," he replied in a long-suffering voice. Kíli chuckled slightly as he tried to stand. His leg hurt, but if he kept at least most of his weight off of it, the pain was manageable.

"They're shouting for Bard out there," Óin remarked unnecessarily. Everyone could hear the people of Lake-town yelling outside the house, calling for any scrap of advice against the dragon.

"What are we going to tell them?" Bain asked, leaving the bedroom with his sisters. They all had small packs with them. Bofur was beginning to put all of the dwarves' belongings in similar packs. Tauriel met Kíli's eyes across the room, a question clear on her face. Kíli nodded slightly.

"Leave that to me," he told Bain. Limping heavily, Kíli crossed the room to the door and stepped out onto the landing, holding onto the railing tightly to keep himself upright.

The people were so caught up in their yelling for Bard that they took a moment to notice him. "Hey!" one man finally yelled. "That's one of the dwarves!"

"You and your kind woke the dragon!" a woman cried. "Now he will come and kill us all, because of you!"

"The dragon is coming here!" an old woman shrieked. Kíli nodded.

"Yes, he is," he declared loudly. The people began to quiet slightly, listening to him. "Smaug is coming. And there is a whole host of other foul things that will come to Lake-town. Do you see the damage done to this house?" Kíli gestured at the destruction the orcs had caused. "Orcs, creatures as foul as any dragon, did this."

"They did it to get to you!" someone yelled. "Everything that's happened has been because of you thrice-damned dwarves!"

"Neither orcs nor dragons will care to spare anyone in their way, be they dwarrow or human," Kíli replied, speaking over the muttering that had begun. "When we asked for your aid, you were willing enough to give it if it meant that you would have a share of the riches of Erebor. In agreeing to help, you have tied yourself to our fate. Do you think Smaug does not know that? Why else would he be coming here?"

"It was your kind who woke the dragon!" one man yelled.

"Smaug would have woken eventually," Kíli replied, forcing himself not to rise to the accusation. "My kin and I have the best claim to Erebor, but we were not the only ones who wished to unlock its riches. There is no use in assigning blame, for it is equally shared among us all." That started the mutters again. Kíli gripped the railing more tightly. His leg was protesting the fact that he had remained standing for so long, but Kíli had to remain upright while convincing the people, or he would not be taken seriously at all.

"This dragon is not the only foul thing in this world," Kíli yelled, silencing the whispers again. "And before long, you may have to face those other foul things. They are cruel, yes. They will try to harm you." Kíli gestured to his leg, which was trembling under him. "They have harmed me. But I can tell you that the orc who did this is dead. They are as mortal as any of you. They can be killed, if you can but find the strength to do it. Lake-town has been isolated for a long time, but no longer. You are a part of this world, and you will share in this world's fate."

"What would you have us do?" one woman yelled. Kíli seized the opportunity.

"I would ask that you find it in yourselves to be brave enough to flee Lake-town. I would ask that you be brave enough to fight another day. I am a dwarrow of Erebor. I know of the hardship of leaving a home you have loved and cherished. I know that it takes bravery that is often difficult to find within yourself. But I also know that it can be done. You, the people of Lake-town, can flee here and live."

"You would have us leave everything we own?" one man called.

"I would have you keep your lives," Kíli replied. "I would have you keep the lives of your children. A life is worth more than any house, any possession. If you flee across the bridge and hide on the plains beyond, then you will be far safer than you would be here, surrounded by your things. Smaug will do his best to raze Lake-town to nothing, but you can stop him from killing you as well." Kíli's voice rose to what he hoped was an inspirational tone. "Do you dare to live?"

There was dead silence for a few moments. Then…

"Just fleeing across the bridge won't be fast enough," one man said. "I would offer my barge out to as many as it can carry, to get them across the water."

Kíli let out a sigh of relief as people began to offer their boats and barges as transportation, while others returned to their homes with a sense of urgency that told Kíli they planned to prepare to leave. The shopkeepers were already making plans for the transportation of their food, which Kíli hoped would work fast enough; they would need a lot of supplies to feed all of those who fled. There were some he did not think he had convinced, but Kíli had always known he would not convince everyone. But if he could save even just one person from Lake-town, it would be better than if he had let them all burn.

"Fíli," Kíli murmured, knowing his brother was behind him. Fíli stepped up. Kíli's leg was shaking under him and he had both of his hands in a white-knuckled grip on the railing to support himself. "If I step away from this railing, I'm going to fall."

Fíli immediately understood what Kíli needed and helped him limp away from the railing and back in the house. He immediately sank down into a chair, feeling as if he had run for miles rather than just stood outside for a few minutes. "You did well," Fíli told him.

"You did a wonderful job, laddie," Bofur said, clapping Kíli on the shoulder as he put on a pack. Óin nodded as well.

"You'll be as good a speaker as your uncle someday," he put in. Kíli smiled slightly, for that was praise indeed.

"Well done," Tauriel murmured, giving Kíli a soft smile. Her praise warmed him more than all of the rest combined.

"Are we leaving?" Bain asked. Kíli nodded, resigning himself to having to walk until they could get out of the town, at least.

"Yes. We will cross the bridge and hide on the plain."

"What about Da?" Tilda demanded. Kíli shared a look with Fíli.

"Your father is going to try to kill the dragon," he told her. "For if he does, he shall be the greatest hero the world has ever seen!" To Kíli's relief, Tilda seemed satisfied with that answer. "Sigrid, Bain, you take care of your sister and go across the bridge. Be quick. Someone ought to go with them."

"I'll travel with them," Óin offered. "I can't say that I'll be much good here. But why are you not coming with us, laddie?"

"I would stay and help those in Lake-town as much as I can," Kíli replied. He looked at all the others, eyes lingering for half a second longer on Tauriel's face before finally resting on Fíli's. "You can choose to flee with the children. There is no shame in it. But if I am going to lead the people out of their homes, I must do what I can to help them."

"You know as well as I that I will not leave your side," Fíli declared. Kíli smiled at his brother.

"I don't know how much I can do, but I'm here if you need me, lad," Bofur added. Kíli turned to Tauriel.

"I would not leave innocents here without doing my best to save them," she murmured. It was answer enough.

"Óin, you go with the children now," Kíli called. Óin nodded, ushering the children out of the house. Tilda squirmed out from her sister's grip to run back to Kíli and give him a hug.

"Don't leave us," she whispered. Kíli patted her hair.

"I will do my best to rejoin you soon," he murmured to her, hoping desperately that his plan would work, knowing that if it didn't, he had just condemned a whole town to die.

The children left with Óin. Kíli stood, wincing as he readied himself to limp out the door. Tauriel swiftly crossed the room, grabbing a wooden harpoon with an iron arrow at the top. In one fluid movement, she broke the arrowhead off the top, leaving just the wooden pole, then tossed that to Kíli. He caught it by reflex, looking at it confusedly. "A crutch would be better, but this will be suitable for the moment," Tauriel added. It clicked suddenly, and Kíli gripped the makeshift staff. Tauriel was right; it did make things much easier.

"Thank you," he told her. Tauriel's lips quirked into the slightest of smiles.

"I would not have you limping around and injuring the leg I have put such effort into healing," she replied with a touch of amusement in her tone. "Shall we split off to aid anyone who needs it?"

"I'm staying with Kíli," Fíli immediately stated. Kíli nodded; he had expected that.

"Fíli and I will stay here. Bofur and Tauriel, can you take over the artisan's district and the merchant's district?" Bofur and Tauriel both nodded. "If Smaug is getting closer, go to the bridge and cross it. Try to find Óin and the children, but don't wait for the others." From the look Tauriel shot Kíli, she could tell as well as he that what he meant was not to wait for him. After all, he and Fíli would be the farthest from the bridge. Kíli was hoping that the two of them could find someone who would take them on a boat, or that they could find some abandoned boat and use it themselves. He had little hope of escaping across the bridge. Fíli's expression showed he understood this as well.

"Well, here's hoping we all make it out," Bofur stated, his declaration just blasé enough in the moment to startle a short laugh out of both Fíli and Kíli.

"Let us meet again, if the Valar wish it," Tauriel murmured. "Be safe."

With that, they all split off, not wishing to do anything so final as to say goodbye. Tauriel and Bofur headed off together, as the artisan's district and the merchant's district were next to each other. Kíli and Fíli headed out and began wandering through the residential section of the town, looking for anyone to help.

A few streets later, Fíli and Kíli had figured out a system; Kíli would go inside and help pack things into bags while Fíli would take the full packs and put them into boats, if the people had a boat. The sudden sense of community was overwhelming and pleasing, Kíli noted, as he watched people with extra space offer to carry things for others. Every moment, Smaug got closer and closer. Finally, after getting through about two-thirds of the area, Fíli put his foot down; there were barely any residents of Lake-town left who had not fled, and they needed to get out of there. An old woman offered Fíli and Kíli a place in her boat, given that they rowed for her. They were quick to agree and followed the parade of boats across the water to the plain.

"Not everyone left," Kíli noted grimly, looking out across the water at the near-abandoned town, where a few houses still had light in the windows.

"But many did, thanks to you," Fíli replied. "Every person who survives this is a person you saved."

"I'm sure some people would have fled anyway," Kíli replied, uncomfortable with the praise. Fíli shrugged, pulling hard on the oars.

"Perhaps, but you convinced many more to do so. And thanks to your speech, people organized their departure. Face it, little brother. You're the hero of the hour."

"When Bard slays Smaug, he can take that place. I shan't fight for it," Kíli replied. He could barely see the wind-lance across the water, but he thought he saw the silhouette of a man there.

"Do you think Bofur and Tauriel have left yet?" Kíli asked. Fíli nodded confidently.

"I'm sure they made it out. After all, they were right near the bridge." Fíli shot a look at the old woman in the boat, who seemed to be mostly deaf. "Do you think our kin are alive in Erebor?" he asked quietly.

"Can you imagine Uncle Thorin letting anything as minor as a dragon's wrath keep him from reclaiming Erebor?" Kíli retorted, aiming for levity. "I'm sure they're alive and well. By the time we get there, they'll have the entire place fit for a king."

"Well, that would be helpful, considering who's there," Fíli replied dryly. Kíli chuckled.

"I'm sure they're as worried about us as we are for them, although it is for no reason. We are well, and so are they."

The boat reached the shore before Fíli could say anything else. Both Fíli and Kíli helped the old woman carry her things, following the others from the town. Kíli scanned the crowd, looking for distinctive red hair or, although this was less likely, a glimpse of Bofur's hat. The upside of having an elven friend was that she was much easier to pick out in a crowd than a dwarf; elves were taller than most people while dwarves were definitely shorter. Kíli's searching proved fruitful when he caught a glimpse of Tauriel's hair.

"Tauriel's over there," he told Fíli, gesturing. "She might know where Bofur is." Wordlessly, Fíli changed direction to cross through the crowd over to Tauriel. Kíli limped after him, his leg protesting even with the help of the staff. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to get all the way to Erebor, but he was equally adamant that he would manage by himself.

Kíli's leg was burning by the time they caught up to Tauriel, who was thankfully walking next to Bofur. "So you lads made it!" Bofur cried, beaming. "We were beginning to worry."

"I had to drag Kíli away," Fíli replied wryly. "He was determined to check on every person in Lake-town."

"Is it so terrible that I want to help them?" Kíli demanded. "Anyway, I did manage to convince two families that were going to stay behind that they should come." Kíli shot a look back at Lake-town. Smaug was nearly there. "Some people didn't come. I wish I could have convinced everyone."

"You did all you could," Tauriel replied quietly.

"And look around you, lad," Bofur added. "This is most of Lake-town. You saved most of the people."

"But I didn't save everyone," Kíli replied, looking back at Lake-town. Smaug had reached the town. Kíli's stomach clenched as he unleashed fire on the town. "Keep moving," he yelled hoarsely as people started to stop. "We need to get farther away." But even as the people around him began to follow his instructions, Kíli found himself slowing. All of the people that were still in the town were there because he hadn't convinced them to come.

Bard didn't fire the Black Arrow, sending a pang of fear through Kíli. Had he been killed in the fire? Had he even made it to the wind-lance? Smaug breathed fire across the town again, soaring above. The fire lit up his imposing figure in the sky. Kíli thought, slightly hysterically, that if he had known the size of the dragon, he would have perhaps been a bit less eager to join Thorin on the quest.

Then Fíli grabbed Kíli's shoulder, pointing at the town. Kíli squinted and saw a figure at the wind-lance, illuminated by the fires blazing all around.

The Black Arrow flew through the sky.

It hit its mark.

"He did it!" Kíli whispered as Smaug fell from the sky, landing in the water with a huge splash that put out the fires near him. "Bard killed him!"

"The dragon is dead!" Fíli shouted at the top of his lungs. "Bard has slain him with a Black Arrow!"

Despite everything, the people of Lake-town found it in themselves to cheer.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter marks the beginning of the book spoilers.<strong>

**The layout of Lake-town is taken from the same map as before (more information in the notes for chapter 3).**


	6. Chapter 6

When Bard reached the refugees from Lake-town, they were all gathered on the plain, still in sight of the town. Kíli had found Bard's children, who were still with Óin. They were thrilled to see Kíli, and appropriately awed by what their father had done. To tell the truth, Kíli was about as awestruck as the children; he still couldn't quite believe that Bard had killed Smaug, the dragon that haunted his childhood nightmares after he snuck downstairs to listen to Thorin and Dís talk about Erebor.

Bard had brought with him the few survivors from Lake-town - a young girl who couldn't be more than six, her four-year-old little brother, a young man, a middle-aged woman, and an old man. They were all burned, but none of them were seriously wounded enough that it couldn't be fixed by the combined efforts of Óin, Tauriel (who Kíli knew had a soft spot for children, despite her denials), and the healers from Lake-town.

As Óin began setting up a station to use to treat the burn victims, Kíli went over to Bard, who was shooing away his children after their enthusiastic greeting. "Good job," he told him, offering him a slight smile. Bard remained grim.

"I should have shot the dragon earlier, before he had a chance to unleash any fire," he replied. Kíli shook his head.

"You did all you could. Look around you. This is the majority of the town. They're safe. And if you had shot too early, you could have missed, then we wouldn't have been able to kill the dragon at all."

"The stories were true," Bard replied. "There was a scale loose. I shot the Black Arrow there, and lodged it in the chink in Smaug's armor, so to speak."

"And you saved us all," Kíli replied. "I told Tilda that if you succeeded, you would be the greatest hero the world had ever seen."

"Oh, please don't," Bard replied, looking mildly horrified. "I am a simple bargeman. I would not be a hero if you offered me all the gold in Erebor."

"I think my uncle might have a problem with that," Kíli replied jokingly. Bard cracked a slight smile. "What of the position of the Master? Would you take that?" The old Master had escaped Lake-town, but the people of the town were rather displeased with him, and it didn't seem likely that he would keep his position for too long.

"No," Bard replied, shaking his head firmly. "The old Master is still living, and I would not usurp him."

"So you would support him?" Kíli asked, surprised. Bard shook his head slowly.

"I would wait for the election. I would not run, but I would give my support to the candidate that I thought would be best for the town."

"Giving your support to any candidate would compel others in the town to support them as well," Kíli mentioned. "You are a hero to these people now. Your words and actions hold sway over them."

"I would have them treat me as a normal man," Bard replied. Kíli shrugged.

"When I was a mere dwarfling in Ered Luin, I had many friends. We did not yet care for titles. But as we grew, and it became obvious that my uncle would not take any of the available dwarrowdams for a wife, then I suddenly became 'Kíli, third in line for the throne of Erebor.' Even in exile, titles were important. While still in Ered Luin, Uncle Thorin was a king, and my mother was a princess, and Fíli and I were princes. Princes were treated differently than the other dwarflings our age. You are not royal, but you have done a great deed. You will be treated differently after this."

"I did no great deed," Bard protested. "I merely did what any man would do, if in my situation."

"And I did not ask to be a prince," Kíli replied simply. Bard frowned.

"Thank you for this discussion," he replied, looking to be thinking hard about something. "I must see to my children."

"Of course," Kíli replied, nodding. "I hope you find the answer for which you are searching."

Bard wandered off, still apparently deep in thought. Kíli limped over to Óin's makeshift burn-care center, watching as Óin worked with the other healers from Lake-town. Tauriel was tending to the children alone, so Kíli went over to her.

"How are they?" he asked her in an undertone, noticing the children were sleeping, curled up around each other. Tauriel didn't stand, as she was closer to his height while on her knees.

"They'll live," she replied. "I do not know that Brigit will recover full use of her left hand, but I believe Dominic will have nothing but scars." Kíli looked down at the children. The girl's left hand was swathed in bandages, enough that Kíli knew to be worried.

"She's so young," he murmured. "They both are. And they have lost their parents."

"And yet they are alive," Tauriel replied. "Now, let me see to your leg."

"What?" Kíli demanded, shocked by the request. "Is my leg really the most pressing concern right now? You have burn victims waiting-"

"Óin asked that I tend to the children, and I have," Tauriel interrupted. "He and the other healers will look after the others. Your leg may still be a pressing concern if I have not expelled all the poison, or if it is developing an infection."

"Oh, would you stop blaming yourself for the poison?" Kíli huffed, pulling up his pants to let Tauriel see his leg. "You did all that you could. You saved my life. Can you not please yourself with that?"

"You could have died because of my incompetency," Tauriel replied stiffly. Kíli sighed as Tauriel began to examine the wound more closely, hissing in pain as she touched it. "My apologies," Tauriel murmured, carefully not touching the wound as she examined it. "I believe all the poison to be gone. I shall make a new poultice for it later." Gently, Tauriel rewrapped the bandages around Kíli's leg, tying it off. Kíli grabbed her hand before she could pull away. She yanked it out of his grip, but stayed where she was standing.

"You have done more than anyone expected of you. You have saved my life many times over. I wish you could satisfy yourself with that." Kíli grinned cockily. "After all, look at this loveliness you have saved from death! If I had departed for the Halls of Mandos, to wait until the time came to rebuild Arda with Mahal, who would be here to rhapsodize about the red of your hair, like sparks from a forge? Who would dream about the creamy smoothness of your skin, as flawless as finely-carved marble? Who would admire the deftness of your fingers, as delicate as a reed but as strong as iron?"

Whatever Tauriel had to say in response to that - Kíli flattered himself to think that he had rendered her speechless, but he doubted he actually had - was interrupted as Fíli ran up. "The Master of Lake-town is calling a meeting of the people," he told Kíli, looking grim. "Bofur went to fetch Bard. The two of you should be there, as representatives of the people."

"Since when am I a representative of the people of Lake-town?" Kíli demanded. "For Mahal's sake, I am a dwarrow of Erebor, not a Man of Lake-town!"

"You should have thought of that before you made a speech and got all of the people to follow you," Fíli retorted. "Come on."

Kíli turned to Tauriel for a moment, but she had already turned away, kneeling next to the children. With a sigh, Kíli picked up his makeshift staff again and followed Fíli to where the Master had summoned all of the people of Lake-town.

Bard nodded solemnly at Kíli as he took a position next to him, after being ushered there by Fíli and Bofur, who stood with them. Kíli's new position as a "representative of the people of Lake-town" was quite irksome, especially since he was sure he was very ill-qualified for the position.

The look on the Master's face instantly told Kíli that whatever he had planned was a bad idea. "People of Lake-town!" the Master yelled. "We are now safe from the evil that the dragon posed, and we are alive. We ought to return to our town and rebuild our life there."

The people began to mutter. Bard frowned. "There is no town to which we may return," he called back. The muttering increased. "Smaug destroyed everything and set it ablaze. There is not enough that remains for us to be able to live there again, unless we were to rebuild the town entirely."

"And whose fault is that?" the Master demanded. "Bard, you have done a great deed in slaying the dragon, but you would not have been forced to do it at all if not for the greed of the dwarves."

Suddenly, the Master's plan made sense to Kíli. He was forcing Bard to pick sides, counting on the fact that many of the people of Lake-town, despite the help the dwarves had given them, still blamed Smaug's attack on Thorin and the rest of the Company. If Bard supported the Master, he was against dwarves. If he supported the dwarves, he was against the town.

Well, two could play at that game.

"And yet," Kíli stated loudly, all eyes turning to him, "who was it who allowed my kin to travel through Lake-town to reach the Lonely Mountain? Who was it who offered us aid in reclaiming our riches, if it meant those riches would be shared? Had you not been so blinded by greed yourself at the though of the gold under the mountain, the rest of the Company would not have reached Erebor in time to open the door, and they would not have been able to enter. I would take caution before pointing too many fingers, lest you discover that you are directing them towards yourself." Doing this - antagonizing figures of authority - was practically second-nature to Kíli. He watched with satisfaction as the Master's face went red with anger.

"And you would speak to me of blame, _dwarf_?" the Master spat.

"The proper term is 'dwarrow,' actually. If you were wondering," Kíli replied, shooting a look at Fíli. His brother had a familiar twinkle in his eye that meant mischief; Kíli wondered what exactly he was planning. "And yes, I would speak to you of blame, because you helped us. Thus, you are implicit in anything my kin have done."

"I should not have done so," the Master snarled. Kíli shrugged.

"But then you would not get your share of the treasure of Erebor," he replied. The people began to mutter frantically. The Master's attention became rapt again.

"Treasure?" he asked slowly. Kíli nodded.

"You were promised a share for helping us before. Now, Bard of Lake-town has slain Smaug. I imagine Thorin will feel deeply indebted."

"Any gold that King Thorin saw fit to give to me would be shared with all the town," Bard added. "I have no need for such things. I would take my fair share, and I would give everyone else their own."

"Lake-town is in ruins," Fíli added, speaking for the first time. "You cannot rebuild it without money for supplies. Go to Erebor and be given what is due to you, and we will help you rebuild your home. My kin and I have just reclaimed our homeland. We understand the pain of not having a place to come home. We will not stand by and let others go through the pain we have only just soothed."

The people were muttering, and from what Kíli heard, they sounded like they agreed with Fíli. Kíli shot his brother a quick smile, which Fíli returned.

"If people wish to return to Lake-town, I will take you there, but there is nothing left," Bard added. "You will find nothing but death and destruction there."

"I would ask the people what they wish to do," the Master declared, desperately trying to regain control of the meeting. "Would you return to our home, or would you continue on?"

"Would you return to ruins or move beyond the past?" Kíli countered.

"All those who would return to Lake-town, declare it," Bard called. There was a quiet chorus of responses. "All those who would continue to the Lonely Mountain, declare it." The people were much louder. "It is decided, then. As a group, we will continue to Erebor. For those who wish to Lake-town, I will lead a group to return."

The meeting split up soon after that. Bard gathered his group to return to Lake-town, the Master slunk off, and Kíli planned to go back to Tauriel. Before he could do so, he and Fíli were ambushed by Bofur.

"What you said was almost wise there, lads!" Bofur cried cheerfully. Turning to Kíli, he added "Are you sure you're still the same Kíli who spent one night braiding various members of the Company together?"

"That was a good prank," Kíli reminisced, smiling at the thought. "It took the better part of a night, and I had to bribe Fíli here with prank immunity to get him to turn a blind eye during his watch, but it was worth it for the look on Thorin's face when he woke up to find that his hair was braided together with Balin's beard."

"So that was why you didn't get braided to anyone!" Bofur cried, turning to Fíli. "I had always thought it was because you two are brothers, but it was because Kíli bribed you!"

"Guilty as charged," Fíli replied, shrugging. "Kíli said he was going to braid me to Dwalin. I decided turning a blind eye was a better fate than that."

"Good choice," Bofur chuckled. He had been braided to Bilbo, which Kíli honestly thought was going easy on him; Bilbo was so sweet that he almost didn't seem to mind the prank. No one had been spared; when they awoke the next morning, every member of the Company, save Kíli, Fíli, and Gandalf, who hadn't been with them, was braided to another member. It had been a good prank. Kíli was still proud of it.

"But all jokes aside, lads, you did a good job," Bofur told Fíli and Kíli solemnly. "Both of you did. You'll be heirs Thorin can be proud of, mark my words."

"As long as we stop pranking him?" Fíli asked dryly. Bofur nodded.

"Aye, that might help a bit."

"As a crowned king with a true seat of power, I hope he'll have better security now than he used to," Kíli replied. "Although, we are his nephews, so we'll probably be able to get around it."

"Not if the dwarfs have ever heard of you two before!" Bofur countered. "Any dwarf who knew you would know that they had to guard Thorin against you two more than anyone else!"

"I resent that!" Fíli protested. Kíli shrugged.

"I accept that it's most likely true," he put in. There was a clear laugh from behind him, one Kíli had never heard before but immediately recognized.

"I should think so," Tauriel declared. "Shall I ever be pranked in such a fashion? I barely know if I would wish for it or not."

"I prank those I care about," Kíli replied. "In truth, it's a way of showing affection." Bofur snorted.

"In that case, I wish we weren't so close."

"Don't worry, Tauriel," Fíli remarked, smirking. "I'm sure Kíli will come up with some inane prank to involve you in before too long. After all, he pranks those he cares about." Fíli winked at Tauriel, making Kíli feel horrified and vaguely sick.

"Fíli!" he hissed. Tauriel just smiled softly.

"I am glad to be included in those close enough to you to be pranked," she told Kíli softly. Kíli felt his cheeks flame red, causing Bofur to cackle.

"Ah, lass, you'll have to stay with us," he told Tauriel. "We need someone who can embarrass Kíli the way he embarrasses us."

"Bofur," Kíli groaned. Tauriel's smile widened.

"Perhaps I will take that offer. After all, embarrassing Kíli may yet be fun."

"I hate all of you," Kíli groaned. Bofur grinned.

"Does that mean I won't be pranked anymore?" Kíli let out a loud groan before stomping off (or, at least, stomping as much as he could stomp) in an exaggerated huff. Truly, though, he felt a warm glow in the pit of his stomach.

It seemed he and Tauriel were perhaps closer than he had thought. And Kíli would never reject the thought of being close to Tauriel.

* * *

><p><strong>Bard's refusal to become the leader of Lake-town is taken from the book; the people want him to be their leader, but he says he'll continue to serve the Master.<strong>

**The Halls of Mandos are where dwarves are said to go when they die, to wait with Mahal until the world ends and they help him rebuild it.**


	7. Chapter 7

The path to Erebor was harder than Kíli had imagined it to be. The problem, he soon realized, was that he had always thought of going to Erebor only with the rest of the Company. For a group of thirteen dwarves, one wizard, and one hobbit, crossing from Lake-town to Erebor wouldn't have been difficult. Getting an entire town across the plain was very different.

Kíli sighed, using his staff to pull himself to his feet. He had continued walking when the rest of the town stopped to eat so he could scout ahead. But before he had gotten too far, his leg had begun to protest even more than before, so he had sat down, looking out over the Desolation. This was the legacy of Smaug, he knew; the dragon had burned the plain until there was nothing left.

"Kíli." Kíli turned to see Fíli behind him, looking grave. "Are you sure that taking these people all the way to Erebor can happen? Have we enough supplies?"

"I'm certain the people can manage," Kíli replied, which wasn't entirely a lie. He knew some people who would make it. But with some of the others, he had the same doubts as his brother.

"All of them?" Fíli asked, disbelief in his tone. "What of the elderly, and the young? What of the five people Bard rescued from the ruins of Lake-town? Can the injured walk all the way to Erebor?" Kíli self-consciously shifted his grip on his makeshift staff, still the best thing they had been able to make to help support his weight. Fíli sighed. "Kíli, I do not mean to insult," he murmured, putting a hand on Kíli's shoulder. "But walking the entire way to Erebor, crossing entire Desolation… It will be difficult for all of us. Should we not perhaps send a few people ahead to Erebor so they may bring aid back?"

"What aid would they bring?" Kíli retorted. "Our Company has limited food and supplies. They cannot feed us, they cannot send horses to help us along… What could they do for us? They could give us gold, but there is nowhere we could go to spend it. We can get no help from Erebor."

"How much food have we?" Fíli asked.

"I know not," Kíli replied. "Some people have food they brought from Lake-town, as we do. There are grocers who brought their food, which I believe they are passing out among the town, free of charge. But the extent of our supplies, I do not know."

"I do not know any details, but I have gone to the grocers to see their wares. They do not have much," Fíli said grimly. "For the Company, we always thought crossing the Desolation would be a day's march. But with an entire town, full of the elderly and the young and the wounded, we will take much longer to cover the ground. It will take us at least a few days to cross to Erebor."

"I would estimate closer to a week," Kíli countered. "I do not know that the people can walk more than a league or so a day, and it is nearly seven leagues from here to Erebor."

"I do not think we have enough food for all of the people for a week," Fíli told Kíli, looking worried. "And there is not much in the Desolation for food. There are no plants, there are no animals…"

"We will still be following the river," Kíli protested, hiding his worry. "We could fish, perhaps."

"Does anyone have a fishing rod or net?" Fíli countered. "Kíli, I do not know that we can make it to Erebor."

"What else can we do?" Kíli protested. "Erebor has no food for us, but neither does Lake-town! Dale is destroyed, and there is no other town near here."

"We could go to Mirkwood, perhaps," Fíli offered. "King Thranduil dislikes dwarrows, but I do not think he would turn away all of the people of Lake-town. I believe he would help."

"The seat of King Thranduil is near as far from us as Erebor is," Kíli retorted.

"But King Thranduil has food!" Fíli argued. "Crossing into Mirkwood will be difficult, yes, but there will be an incentive at the end."

"An incentive that we are not sure King Thranduil will give to us!" Kíli snapped. Realizing what he was doing, he sighed and dragged his hand over his face. "I'm sorry. We ought not to fight. The hardships of this journey should not harden us against each other."

"You are right," Fíli replied. "Rather than argue, shall we talk to some others of the town to decide what we ought to do?"

"We can talk to Bard about supplies," Kíli replied, nodding. "And we can ask Tauriel if she thinks King Thranduil would help us." He adjusted his grip on his staff, beginning to limp back to the camp. Fíli fell in step next to him, staying at the same pace even though Kíli knew he could go faster.

"You know I meant no slight against you when I spoke of the injured," Fíli said quietly. Kíli nodded, suddenly acutely aware of his slow pace.

"I know," he replied. Wanting to change the topic to something more lighthearted, he added, "Can you imagine the look on Mother's face when she discovers my injury?"

Fíli laughed. "She'll be furious," he replied. "I'm sure she'll go on about how reckless you are for quite some time."

"Why does everyone call me reckless?" Kíli protested, making Fíli chuckle again. "It's quite unfair. I'm no more reckless than some of the other dwarrows. Why, Gimli tried to convince Glóin that he could come on the quest, and he is but sixty-two! And Uncle Thorin was the one who ran down a burning tree _alone_ to fight Azog the Defiler and his hoard of orcs! How am I any more reckless than they?"

"You're the one that Mother can lecture," Fíli replied. "Gimli is not her son and Thorin is her elder brother. There is little she can do for them. And I am not so reckless as you, so you are the focus of Mother's energies."

"I'm not that reckless," Kíli muttered. Fíli gave his leg a pointed look.

"Of course not."

Fíli and Kíli were playfully shoving each other as they returned to the camp. A few of the townspeople looked up at them as they passed, but for the most part, the people kept to themselves. Kíli could not blame them for it.

"I'll find Bard," Fíli told Kíli, turning towards where Bard and his children were. "You go find Tauriel." Kíli nodded, turning the other way, towards where the wounded were being treated. Tauriel's assistance was no longer truly necessary with the children, but she insisted on being the one to help them. Kíli shot her knowing looks whenever she left to see them, which she pretended not to see. He wasn't sure, but he thought she was fairly young for an elf, which might have been why she was so close to Brigit and Dominic. Whatever the reason, she cared for them, although she liked to pretend she didn't.

As Kíli had suspected, Tauriel was with Brigit and Dominic. "Tauriel," he hissed quietly, not wanting to disturb the resting children. Tauriel's elf hearing caught the whisper and she stood, turning to walk over to Kíli.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly. Kíli shook his head.

"No. Well, perhaps. Come with me, please. We need to talk about the food supplies. Fíli is fetching Bard as we speak."

"Very well," Tauriel replied, walking with Kíli as they returned to where he had split off from Fíli. Bard and Fíli were approaching the spot as well.

"Where shall we talk?" Fíli asked, looking around. "I don't think we really want to be overheard more than necessary."

"Come with me," Tauriel murmured, walking off. The others followed her to a secluded little spot. Kíli sat on the ground, prompting Fíli and Bard to do so as well. Tauriel remained standing until Kíli gestured for her to sit, at which point she gracefully folded her legs and sat with a soft sigh.

"Fíli tells me you wish to speak about the food supplies?" Bard asked in a low voice. Kíli nodded.

"We are not sure that we have enough, and the Desolation is not named such in jest," he replied. "Will we have enough food to get to Erebor?"

"How long will it take?" Bard countered.

"We expect about a week, perhaps a bit less," Fíli replied. Bard looked grim.

"I believe we may have enough supplies for just that time, but barely. And what shall we do for food once we reach Erebor? Do you have supplies there, Master Dwarves?"

"No," Kíli admitted, shooting Tauriel a look. "We were wondering if perhaps it would make more sense to travel to the Woodland Realm, where you may beg food of King Thranduil."

"I am not sure that many of the townsfolk will be willing to beg, especially of someone who is not of the race of Men," Bard replied slowly. "But if we are low on food, they may reconsider."

"Will the Elvenking feed the people of Lake-town?" Fíli asked Tauriel, whose face was creased with a frown.

"We have always been friendly with Esgaroth," she replied, sounding as if she were choosing every word with care. "However, I do not know how eager my king would be to feed an entire town that appeared on his doorstep."

"What of traveling into Mirkwood?" Kíli asked. "When we passed, we were almost killed by spiders."

"I could pass through Mirkwood without much trouble," Tauriel replied. "But I do not know that I would be welcome, after leaving as I did. If I should return, especially if I should return without Legolas, I do not know that King Thranduil would be pleased."

"If we do not go to Mirkwood, what shall we do when we reach Erebor?" Fíli asked Bard, who frowned.

"Are you sure there is nothing here?" he asked Kíli. "Surely the dragon had to eat something during his years in Erebor."

"He slept for much of it," Kíli replied slowly. "I know not what else he did. Perhaps there is something here. Smaug would not have eaten herbs, but there are a few plants I cannot name."

"I can examine them," Tauriel offered. "It is rare that a Silvan elf happens across a plant they cannot recognize."

"Can you get together a small group of hunters?" Kíli asked Bard. "Do not tell them of the dwindling stores, for we do not need the people to worry quite yet, but have them go out to see if they can find anything. If we can find plants and animals to eat, we may make it to Erebor yet."

"I will gather a group," Bard promised, standing and returning to the camp. Tauriel stood as well.

"I will see to the plants," she added. Kíli almost asked if she would require help, but he knew he could not offer much; he didn't know any of the plants, and he could barely walk.

"Do require aid?" Fíli asked politely. Kíli's head whipped around to look at his brother. Shock showed in Tauriel's eyes for a moment, then she masked the emotion.

"If aid is being offered, I would not refuse it," Tauriel replied. Fíli stood, Kíli mimicking him with the aid of his staff.

"Will you be alright?" Fíli murmured. Kíli nodded, still slightly stunned by this turn of events.

"Do not be cruel to her," he warned Fíli, who just rolled his eyes and turned back to Tauriel. The two of them walked off, leaving Kíli behind to watch them, still not quite understanding. He finally turned back to the camp, deciding to find Bofur, who might have some sort of insight on what Fíli was doing. It was rare that Kíli did not understand his brother, but there were times. Bofur was good with understanding others, so Kíli hoped that he might understand what he did not.

Kíli finally found Bofur sitting with Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda. Tilda was playing with a few dolls while Bofur showed Sigrid and Bain his woodcarving skills. Kíli watched for a moment, a slight smile on his face. He had known Bofur since he was but a dwarfling, and he had first met him in a situation not unlike the one before him.

He and Fíli had been with Dís on market day, as they usually were, when they had seen a small stall, somewhat out of the way. Inside had been Bofur and Bifur, who had been conversing is fragmented Khuzdul and _iglishmêk_, which was the best they could do with Bifur's axe wound. As the cousins had talked, they had been carving, making the most incredible toys. Fíli and Kíli had pulled away from their mother, naturally, and ran to the stall, babbling in a frantic mix of Westron and Khuzdul about the toys. Dís had ended up leaving the boys in Bofur and Bifur's care as she finished her shopping, after Bofur assured her they didn't mind. At the end of the day, when she returned, Fíli and Kíli left the stall clutching new toys and with a promise that Bofur and Bifur would come to visit their house next time they came to that area of Ered Luin. They had, and when Thorin met Bofur and Bifur, they had become fairly quick friends. The two of them, plus Bomber, who was Bofur's brother, were natural choices for the quest to reclaim Erebor, when the time had come for it, despite that they were not of Durin's folk.

"Kíli!" Bofur cried when he finally noticed Kíli watching them. "Come over here, lad. Do you remember the carving skills I taught you?"

"Vaguely," Kíli replied, shrugging with a slightly embarrassed expression. "I was never as good as you."

"Oh, lad, no one expected that," Bofur replied cheerfully. Sigrid giggled. "Come on. Carve with me. I have an extra knife."

"What should I carve?" Kíli asked, coming over and sitting down slowly. Bofur passed him a carving knife and a block of wood.

"Whatever you want," he replied. Kíli frowned down at the wood, beginning to carve slowly, letting his fingers decide on a shape as his mind wandered. Before too long, a figure began to appear, which slowly became recognizable as a dragon.

"You should give that to your uncle when we reach Erebor," Bofur chuckled as Kíli began carving scales onto the dragon.

"I'd rather not be disowned from the line of Durin," Kíli replied dryly, carving a blaze of fire coming from the dragon's mouth. Instead of carving something tangible, which Kíli had never been very good at, he was carving the image of the dragon into the front of the piece of wood. He didn't think it was as good as the rose Bofur was carving next to him, which he presented to Sigrid with a flourish when he finished.

"Could I have the dragon?" Bain asked, a hint of shyness in his voice. Kíli smiled at the boy and nodded.

"Of course," he replied. Kíli had forgotten how much he liked woodcarving, and it was nice to let his fingers do something mindless and keep his hands busy in that way.

Kíli finished the dragon and tossed it to Bain, who tucked it into his bag. The children wandered off a bit, still in view, but out of earshot. "We're running low on food," he murmured to Bofur, who nodded grimly.

"Fíli did say something about that," he replied. "And there won't be much waiting in the Lonely Mountain."

"Bard was going to gather a group to go hunting," Kíli added. "I doubt they'll find much here, but they can look. And Tauriel went out to see if she could find any edible plants."

"And Fíli?" Bofur asked. Kíli frowned.

"Fíli went with Tauriel," he replied. To his surprise, Bofur didn't look that confused.

"He said he wanted to get to know her better," he told Kíli. "Something about wanting to see if she's good enough for you."

Kíli groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. Bofur laughed. "Don't worry, lad," he advised him. "Óin has already put in his good word for her, and I quite like the lass. I'm sure Fíli will as well."

"But what if he _says_ something to her?" Kíli protested, his voice muffled by his hands. "What if he _tells_ her?"

"You did a good job of that yourself," Bofur teased. Kíli took his face out of his hands to glare at Bofur.

"And Tauriel has not mentioned it, so I'd rather it not be brought up again," he retorted. Bofur sighed.

"Lad, sometimes I think you're about as in touch with your feelings as your uncle," he declared. Kíli narrowed his eyes.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Bofur treated Kíli to the most innocent face he could make.

"Nothing at all, lad," he replied. Kíli sighed, but the children running back over kept him from pushing the issue. In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss things further with Bofur.

After all, his claim that he didn't want Tauriel to bring up his confession of love was a blatant lie.

* * *

><p><strong>The distance between Erebor and Lake-town is a guess, considering the distance that was in the movie seemed to be rather different from the distance in the book. In the movie, Dale is right next to the front gate of Erebor, whereas in the books, it was a few hours walk away. A league is most commonly described as the equivalent of three miles, so in this fic, Erebor is about twenty miles away from Lake-town.<strong>

**Khuzdul is the language of the dwarves, which is a huge secret and isn't supposed to be spoken or even mentioned in front of anyone who's not a dwarf. Iglishmêk is a dwarf sign language, spoken entirely in gestures.**

**In the book, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur are dwarves of Ered Luin, with no real connection to Erebor except their friendship with Thorin.**


	8. Chapter 8

"So," Fíli stated, not sure exactly how to begin his conversation with Tauriel. He wanted to talk to her about Kíli - without being obvious about it, of course - but he wasn't quite sure how to start the conversation.

"I will admit that I was surprised at your offer to help," Tauriel offered, which was as good a way to start a conversation as any. "I did not think you thought much of me."

"I would ask that you do not judge me too harshly on my recent actions," Fíli replied, which was probably the closest he would get to an apology. "I have had much on my mind."

"That is understandable," Tauriel replied neutrally. "And I assume it does not help matters that I am an elf."

Fíli grimaced. "Lady Tauriel-"

"I am no lady, but merely a captain of the guard," Tauriel interrupted.

"Captain Tauriel, then," Fíli amended. "It is true that my uncle has a grudge against the elves, especially those of Mirkwood, after your king did not help against Smaug."

"Which I can understand," Tauriel added. Fíli nodded.

"But I do not share all of his prejudices. And you saved my brother from a painful death. That alone would be enough for me to be grateful to you, no matter what you were."

"I am glad of that," Tauriel replied. "Both that I saved your brother and that you do not think badly of me because I am an elf. I have found, rather unexpectedly, that I quite like you dwarrows myself. I am glad that you like me in return."

"Yes, well," Fíli replied, a little flustered. "I'm not about to judge anyone based on anything but who they are."

"And that virtue will make you a good prince," Tauriel replied. Fíli jumped on the topic.

"I can't quite believe that Kíli and I are to be princes," he remarked. Tauriel frowned.

"You have always been princes, have you not?" she asked, puzzled. Fíli nodded slowly.

"Aye, we have been. Technically. But when you are a prince to a lost kingdom that you've never seen, it's not quite _real_. Now that we've nearly reached Erebor, it seems as if it's actually something that's happening. While we're here, it's much easier to think that I could someday be King Under the Mountain."

"Do you think your uncle will lead well?" Tauriel asked, bending gracefully to examine a plant. Fíli squatted next to her.

"Of course," he replied, mildly offended that Tauriel had even asked such a question.

"My apologies," Tauriel murmured, plucking a leaf from the plant and bringing it closer to her face. "I was merely thinking of the history of madness in your family."

"Thorin won't fall victim to that," Fíli replied stoutly. Tauriel's tongue flicked out and licked the leaf, then she shook her head and dropped it.

"That's not edible," she told Fíli. "It can be consumed in very small amounts, but too much is poisonous."

"Noted," Fíli replied, standing as Tauriel did. "And I understand that many are concerned about my uncle's reaction to the gold in the mountain, but I cannot imagine him going as mad for gold as his grandfather did."

"King Thrór was not the only one of Durin's line who had madness in him," Tauriel remarked. "Is it not said that King Thráin also went mad at the death of his father?"

"I do not believe the two are necessarily comparable," Fíli replied slowly. "Thrór became prideful and lusted for gold more than he should have. It was not quite madness, although I doubt many would have called him sane. Thráin was different. His madness only came after watching his father being murdered before him. And there is no proof that he truly did go mad, as he was never seen again after the battle that claimed his father's life."

"You are skilled at debate, Master Fíli," Tauriel remarked, a slight smile on her face. "I find I am very nearly convinced."

"Do you recall when Smaug took Erebor?" Fíli asked. Tauriel looked slightly surprised.

"Yes," she replied. "I was over four hundred years old when it occurred." Fíli did the quick mental math; Smaug took Erebor nearly two hundred years before, meaning Tauriel had to be around six hundred years old. "I did not go to Erebor with King Thranduil, but I do remember talking about it with Legolas."

"And what did the prince say?" Fíli asked. Tauriel frowned slightly.

"Legolas reminded me of the dangers of dragons. King Thranduil knows them well."

"What do you mean?" Fíli asked, frowning as well.

"I should not tell you these things, but for the fact that I know King Thranduil has already shown your uncle," Tauriel told Fíli. "My king was attacked by a dragon, far before Smaug even thought of Erebor. The wound never fully healed, even with the aid of our most skilled healers. King Thranduil covers the scarring with a glamour, using a simple elf trick. But the scarring is indeed serious, as dragons can do heavy damage. My king was slighted by yours and thus was unwilling to fight a dragon and risk injury for him."

"When did Thrór slight the Elvenking?" Fíli asked, frowning. He had never heard that before, but he was not sure he doubted it; Thorin would be unlikely to tell Fíli anything that painted elves in a more positive light.

"King Thranduil went to pay homage to King Thrór, expecting an alliance and some sort of compensation. My king bowed to yours, and King Thrór teased him with white gems, which are highly beloved by the elves due to their glow, which is reminiscent of starlight. When King Thranduil was about to accept the gift, King Thrór had the lid slammed shut and revealed that he did not truly wish to offer any to my king. King Thranduil was incensed, and rightly so. On that day, King Thrór lost any alliance with my king."

"I've never heard that story before," Fíli remarked. Tauriel bristled slightly.

"I speak the truth," she stated firmly. Fíli immediately nodded, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I'm sure you are!" he replied. "I didn't mean to imply you were lying. I'm not surprised I haven't heard it before. It's not the sort of tale my uncle would tell me."

"While I do understand your uncle's prejudices, I believe he allows them to blind him to other truths that exist," Tauriel remarked. Fíli sighed.

"Yes, he does. Which makes me wonder how he may react to you."

"To me?" Tauriel asked, kneeling by another plant. Fíli nodded.

"You are an elf. An elf of Mirkwood, no less, and fairly close to King Thranduil. And yet, you have saved Kíli's life, and Kíli is undeniably fond of you."

Tauriel stared steadily at the plant, her face an impassive mask. "I do not know how long that fondness would last if it placed Kíli between myself and your uncle," she replied mildly. Fíli frowned.

"Kíli does want to make Thorin proud of him. He always has. But I've never seen him act the way he does with you. I would not be so sure that he would abandon you."

The tiniest hint of a blush spread across Tauriel's cheeks. "I believe you are seeing things that are not there," she murmured, rising. "The leaves of this plant are edible, although they are not especially palatable."

"But they're edible?" Fíli repeated, bending down to examine the plant. Tauriel nodded.

"Shall we collect some and bring them back to camp?" she asked, leaning down to pluck a few leaves from the plant. Fíli nodded, plucking some of his own.

"I've seen this plant around the Desolation," he remarked. "It's not exactly plentiful, but neither is it rare. It may be able to supplement our food supply."

"We should see to some other plants as well, to discover if they may help us," Tauriel added. Fíli nodded.

"Have you ever visited Erebor, Lady- I mean, Captain Tauriel?" Fíli asked after a moment of silence. Tauriel shook her head.

"No," she replied. "Four hundred years old is fairly young for an elf, and that was my age when the dragon arrived, so I did not accompany my king on any diplomatic missions. Legolas traveled there twice and told me of the riches of the mountain. He said the throne room was like nothing he had ever seen before. But he also told me that the air was stale and that the rooms were cold, much less pleasing than the open skies and sun-kissed warmth of Mirkwood."

"Dwarrows prefer the solidity of stone and the protection that a mountain may give to the fresh air of a forest," Fíli replied. "And the riches of many a dwarrow come from under the ground, so we do not long so much for the warmth of the sun when we may be warmed by our work."

"When we speak such, dwarrows and elves seem very different," Tauriel remarked. "And yet we are not so divided, are we? We are both part of this world and subject to its whims. We will both share its fate. And we both live, and hurt, and love, and hate. We are not so different as we may seem."

"Although there is a significant difference in our heights," Fíli added with a grin. Tauriel inclined her head slightly.

"And thus stems the animosity between our races," she replied, a hint of mischief on her face. "You dwarrows are jealous of the height of the elves."

"We are not!" Fíli retorted. Tauriel smiled slightly.

"I speak but in jest," she assured him. "Perhaps it is the elves who are jealous of the beards of the dwarrows."

"Well, perhaps that explains why you like Kíli more than any of the rest of us," Fíli replied wryly. "He has no beard to speak of."

The remark startled a little laugh out of Tauriel, who looked to be as surprised by the noise as Fíli. He decided not to mention it. "Legolas would be furious if he knew I had any partiality for a dwarrow," Tauriel admitted. "My king has never been fond of dwarrows, and Legolas has learned that prejudice for a long while. But although King Thranduil has been like a father to me for quite some time, I have never shared those preconceptions."

"Thranduil has been like a father to you?" Fíli repeated, puzzled. "What of your true parents?"

"They were killed," Tauriel replied shortly. "I was very young. Since then, King Thranduil has been like a parent to me. Although Legolas is around two thousand years my senior," - Fíli didn't even want to ask about that - "he has always been as a brother to me."

"If that is true, why are you merely a captain of the guard?" Fíli asked, frowning. "Why do you not hold a more important position among the elves?"

"I did not wish to benefit from nepotism, and thus I have been tested on my own merits, not on the merits of those to whom I am close," Tauriel replied simply. "I wish to have earned any position I might have."

"I can respect that," Fíli replied as Tauriel bent to examine another plant. She shook her head almost immediately and straightened.

"This plant causes instant death," she told Fíli, who nodded, making sure to cement that in his memory. "Shall we return to the camp? We can pick more of the leaves of this plant as we go."

"We have already been gone for quite some time," Fíli replied. "We ought to return."

Tauriel began to make for the camp, walking along so quickly Fíli could barely keep up. He would rather die before admitting that he had a hard time keeping up with her, however, so he kept his mouth shut. There wasn't much more conversation between the two as they returned.

When they reached the camp, Tauriel went to speak with Bard, as they had decided, while Fíli went to find Kíli. He was with Bofur and Bard's children, whittling away at a block of wood. "Practicing your woodcarving?" Fíli asked, making Kíli jump.

"Yes, actually," he replied, taking the block of wood he had been working on and stuffing it in his pocket. Fíli decided he would ask about it later. "Bofur made a rose for Sigrid and a lily for Tilda, and I made a dragon for Bain. And I made little animals for Brigit and Dominic as well."

"Brigit and Dominic?" Fíli repeated dumbly. Kíli sighed.

"The children who were injured by dragon fire," he replied. "Tauriel has been treating them. I've made Brigit a little kitten and Dominic a puppy. Everyones like kittens and puppies."

"How bored have you been?" Fíli remarked teasingly.

"I've been trying not to think about the horrible things you were telling Tauriel," Kíli retorted. "Did you talk about me?"

"Well, not directly," Fíli replied. "Most of the time," he amended, recalling that he and Tauriel had directly spoken of Kíli a few times. Kíli groaned.

"I hate you," he whined. Fíli laughed.

"I like her," he replied. "Uncle is going to kill you, but I like her. You could have done a lot worse, little brother."

"Just tell me you didn't tell her any embarrassing childhood stories," Kíli replied desperately. Fíli laughed.

"That's for next time," he replied. "I was thinking I could tell her about the time that you cut off all your own hair to make a beard-"

Kíli let out a shriek and threw himself at Fíli, who was laughing. "You promised never to mention that again!" Kíli cried, pinning his brother to the ground. Fíli was able to roll him over quite easily, still laughing.

"Shall I tell Tauriel about how much glue was on your face?" he asked. Kíli kicked at him futilely with his good leg; Kíli was strong, but in terms of sheer size, Fíli was larger.

"Fíli?" Tauriel asked, her voice coming from somewhere above Fíli's head. Watching Kíli's face turn bright red was far more amusing than looking up at her, however, so Fíli kept watching Kíli as he stood.

"Something wrong?" he asked. Tauriel arched an eyebrow, but she made no remark. Kíli scrambled to his feet, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

"I have spoken to Bard. His hunters have not yet returned, but he believes they will not be much longer. He is going to speak with some other townsfolk so that everyone knows which plants are edible and which are not." Tauriel's eyes flickered to Kíli. "I was also wondering if either you or your brother might help me with Brigit and Dominic, who have need of comfort."

"I'll do it!" Kíli immediately volunteered. "I've made them little woodcarvings, actually. Do you think those would help?"

"I should think so," Tauriel replied. Kíli quickly scooped up a little carved kitten and puppy and followed Tauriel back to the medical area, limping alongside her and apparently teasing her about something. Fíli shook his head fondly.

He wasn't sure Kíli could be any more obvious if he made a sign declaring his love for Tauriel. Considering that Tauriel seemed reluctant to make a move of her own, Fíli wondered if he ought to make a sign for Kíli himself.

* * *

><p><strong>The reference to Thráin's madness is from the extended edition of the first Hobbit movie. Elrond says that there is madness in Thorin's family that both Thrór and Thráin succumbed to. In the extended edition of the second movie, Gandalf meets Thráin, who does seem fairly mad.<strong>

**Tauriel's age is taken from interviews where she's said to be a young elf, only about six hundred years old. Legolas' age is a guess based on information given in the books. Tauriel being raised by Thranduil after her parents' death has been hinted at; her parents were killed by orcs when she was young, and it's been assumed that Thranduil raised her.**


	9. Chapter 9

"May I see the carvings you have made for the children?" Tauriel asked as she and Kíli walked to the medical area. Kíli reached into his pocket and pulled out the little kitten and puppy, careful not to take out the other piece of wood he was working on. He passed the carvings to Tauriel.

"You have skill with a knife," she remarked. Kíli shrugged.

"Bofur taught me how to do it," he replied. "He's much better than I am. I haven't carved in years. I forgot how much I enjoyed it."

"These are lovely," Tauriel complimented, handing them back to Kíli. He tucked them in his pocket. "Perhaps you could add some carvings to your staff," Tauriel added. Kíli was fairly certain she was teasing. "It would make it much more interesting."

"I could try and carve the beautiful elf maid who healed me," Kíli remarked, grinning, "although I doubt I could capture her loveliness." Kíli flattered himself to think that Tauriel looked a little flustered by the attention, although he knew she probably didn't care for his flirtations.

"Perhaps you could carve the story of your journey," Tauriel suggested. "And as you carve it, you could tell it, for I greatly wish to know how you came to reach Erebor."

"Oh, it's quite a story," Kíli replied with a grin. "Full of adventures and a daring, handsome prince-"

"Fíli?" Tauriel interrupted, looking as innocent as she could. Kíli gave her an unamused look.

"Myself, of course," he replied, gesturing at himself. "How could poor Fíli compare to this?"

"I'm sure he agonizes over it daily," Tauriel replied dryly. Kíli shot Tauriel a flirtatious grin.

"And why wouldn't he, when faced with such perfection?"

"What adventures did you and your Company face on your way to Erebor?" Tauriel asked. Kíli grinned.

"I can tell you some great tales, but later. For now, we're nearly at the children, aren't we?"

"Of course," Tauriel replied, looking up to find they were nearly at the medical center. "I will go to the children first, then you can present them with their gifts."

"Whatever you think is best," Kíli replied amicably. Tauriel slipped forward, going over to the children, who were huddled next to each other. She bent and murmured something to them. Brigit nodded. Tauriel turned and gestured Kíli forward.

"This is my friend, Kíli," she told Brigit and Dominic. "He's a dwarrow, or as you call them, a dwarf."

"Is that why he's so short?" Dominic asked in a whisper. Kíli grinned as he sat down gingerly.

"I'll have you know I'm considered fairly tall among the dwarrows," he told the children. Dominic looked unconvinced. "Truly! Dwarrows do not grow to such great heights as men. Among my kind, I am considered to be of a good height."

"Don't dwarves have beards?" Brigit asked quietly. Kíli made a show of having his eyes go wide and reached up to his chin.

"What? It's gone!" he cried. Brigit and Dominic watched him with wide eyes. "My beard is gone! Someone must have stolen it. Tauriel, have you seen anyone come by wearing my beard? They must have taken it!" Brigit let out a little giggle. "My beard has been stolen!"

"Calm down," Tauriel told Kíli, looking slightly amused herself. "You've never had a beard, you daft fool."

"Oh, yes," Kíli replied, letting his hand drop as if he'd just remembered. "I haven't had a beard, have I?" Kíli turned back to the children. "I'm an archer, so I've always shaved my beard. I wouldn't want it to get caught in my bowstring, now would I! It would be quite silly if I were to go flying forward instead of the arrow."

"Could that happen?" Dominic whispered, wide eyed. Kíli nodded solemnly. Dominic looked shocked.

"Kíli, stop filling the children's heads with nonsense," Tauriel scolded. She turned back to Brigit and Dominic. "This dwarrow is the most foolish I have ever come across. You must not believe a word he says."

"She's right," Kíli added in an undertone. Brigit frowned.

"If she says we're not to believe you, but you say she's right, then should we believe you or not?" she asked quietly. Kíli just winked. Tauriel sighed.

"Kíli, did you not have gifts for the children?" she asked. Kíli shrugged, seeing the way Brigit and Dominic's eyes went huge at the thought.

"I do, if they want them. I don't know if they would."

"We do!" Dominic cried. Kíli laughed.

"Alright, then," he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the carvings for the children. "Brigit, for you, I have a little kitten." Kíli placed the carved kitten in Brigit's unburnt hand, watching with a smile as her fingers curled around it. "And for you, Dominic, a little puppy." Dominic held his hands out as Kíli placed the carved puppy on them. He looked overjoyed.

"I always wanted a puppy!" he told Kíli, who smiled.

"So did I, but my mother was convinced it would be too much work and I would not do my part to help."

"And was she right?" Tauriel asked, arching an eyebrow. Kíli shrugged.

"Probably. We never got a puppy, but another family nearby did, and I played with theirs instead."

"Can I play with this puppy?" Dominic asked. Kíli grinned.

"You can pretend. He's sleeping now, though. Can't you see?" Dominic peered down at his puppy, then nodded.

"I don't want to wake him," he replied solemnly.

"You should sleep as well," Tauriel put in. Brigit and Dominic didn't protest, surprisingly, and simply lay down, curling around each other and their new toys. Within minutes, they were asleep.

"Thank you," Tauriel told Kíli softly as he heaved himself upright with the help of his staff. "I believe you did much good to help the children."

"It was nothing," Kíli replied, shrugging it off. "I like them. They're sweet. And Óin wasn't entirely wrong when he said I was a child myself. Where is he, by the way?"

"I believe he is helping to tend to another one of Smaug's victims. The elderly man has fairly serious burns, and in his age, he is no longer so strong as he once was. I am not sure how much longer he has to live." That abruptly sobered Kíli. A blessedly small amount of people from Lake-town had died in Smaug's attack, but there were still casualties, and some much more serious than those of Brigit and Dominic. "We are lucky that there were so few victims," Tauriel added, as if she could read Kíli's mind.

"There were five who did not flee and still survived," Kili replied darkly. "But think of all the others who stayed, who are now dead. There were many victims."

"And many survivors," Tauriel replied, gesturing around them. "Look at all those who were saved."

"And think of all those who were lost," Kíli retorted. Tauriel's reply was cut off as Bard arrived, looking grim.

"The hunters have returned," he told them. "They don't have much."

"Not much," it turned out, meant the hunters had two rather scraggly looking rabbits and one more rabbit that looked slightly healthier. Bard turned to the hunters.

"Was that all there was to find?" he asked. One of the men nodded.

"There wasn't much of anything. It took time to find these. There's naught alive here but us."

"Thank you," Bard told the men, who dispersed, leaving the rabbits. "We'll have to take these to the cooks. Perhaps they can fabricate some sort of stew with them tomorrow. Fresh meat will raise people's spirits."

"If there is so little food to be found here, perhaps we ought to go to Mirkwood," Kíli put in, turning to Tauriel. She was frowning.

"As I said before, I would not have us pin our hopes on my king. I know not if he has the stores to feed all of the town."

"Where else are we to go?" Bard retorted. "Erebor has gold, true, but we cannot eat gold. There is little food there, as there is little food here. Mirkwood may well be our only option."

"We ought to discuss this more come morning," Kíli put in, looking at the sun, which had almost completely set. "The Desolation grows cold when night falls. We discovered that last night. Everyone ought to return to their families and rest for tonight, then we can decide what path we will take tomorrow."

"I will return to Brigit and Dominic," Tauriel stated, sweeping off.

"I will return to my daughters," Bard added. "Will you join me, Kíli? I believe your kinsmen are there as well."

"I will join you soon," Kíli replied distractedly, watching as Tauriel wound her way through the people. Something was troubling her, and he wanted to help.

Bard smiled knowingly before leaving. Kíli limped over to a little spot, not part of any family's camp but still sheltered slightly, and pulled out the other carving in his pocket. It was a star. Engraved on it, in such delicate work such that it was barely noticeable unless you knew it was there, were tiny vines crawling up and down. Kíli planned to give it to Tauriel, but he had to finish it. It was mostly done, but it required a bit more work.

When Kíli finished the star, he delicately carved his name into one bit of it, using Westron letters, as he didn't know the proper Sindarin ones and Khuzdul was far too secretive a language to carve it into a wooden star, let alone one Kíli wished to give to an elf.

Tauriel wasn't with the children when Kíli arrived, but he could see a flicker of red farther off on the Desolation, which he took - and rightly so - to be her hair. "The stars are beautiful tonight," she murmured as Kíli approached. He put his hand over the wooden star in his pocket. "Do you still think of them as having a cold light?"

"No, I have found warmth in the light of the stars," Kíli replied, sitting next to Tauriel. She was hugging her knees to her chest, looking remarkably vulnerable. "Is something wrong?" he asked, putting a hand on Tauriel's shoulder. To his surprise, she let it stay there.

"I do not wish to return to Mirkwood," she replied honestly. "I am afraid of what reception I may find there."

"What reception do you expect?" Kíli asked. Tauriel sighed, leaning forward to press her forehead against her knees.

"I left when I was not given leave to do so. I took Legolas along with me, taking the only son and heir of my king into danger. And then I let him go off by himself, after dragging him along with me, so I could heal you. I do not regret it, but I doubt King Thranduil will see things in the same way."

"Surely he wouldn't punish you too severely," Kíli countered. Tauriel let out a dry chuckle.

"You do not know my king so well as I do. I do not doubt his anger, and I do not doubt that I will feel his wrath, in some way or another."

"You can always come with me, if you must," Kíli offered. "My uncle will understand that he owes you a debt, after what you have done, and if you are no longer welcome among your people, you may join mine."

Tauriel's lips twitched into a slight smile. "That is sweet," she told Kíli softly. "But elves are immortal, and the lives of all mortals seem short to us. What would I do after you and your uncle were dead?"

"Whatever you so wished," Kíli replied. "Perhaps your king would have forgiven you. Or perhaps you could travel around all of Middle Earth and see all there is to see. There is so much out there, Tauriel. You could see it all."

"I could," Tauriel replied doubtfully, "but I do not know that I would wish for such a thing, after those whom I cared for were gone."

Kíli felt a strange warmth in his stomach at the thought of being someone Tauriel cared for. "There are other ways to keep the ones you love close to you," he replied, pulling out the star. "You may keep their gifts, so you will not forget them," he added, handing it over to Tauriel.

Tauriel looked at the star, taking it in her hands, then closed her eyes. "You are so good," she whispered, putting her forehead against her knees again, still holding the star. When she didn't look up, Kíli sensed that she needed some space and took a step back, slowly leaving her to her solitude and returning to the rest of the camp.

"And where have you been?" Fíli asked as Kíli limped over to him. "Bard said you would be coming soon. What were you doing?"

"Talking to Tauriel," Kíli replied. Fíli's eyes lit up with mischief.

"And what does our darling elf maid have to say?" he asked playfully. Kíli sighed.

"She is worried as to how King Thranduil will react when she returns. I told her she would always have a place in Erebor, if she so wished."

"You didn't," Fíli whispered, eyes wide. Kíli shrugged. "Kíli, I understand that you like Tauriel. I like her too. But might you wish to slow down a bit, at least until Uncle has approved?"

"And what are the chances that Uncle _will_ approve?" Kíli retorted. "I think it is better that I spend as much time with her as I may before Uncle contrives to tear us apart."

"Kíli," Fíli replied with a sigh. "Uncle will not do anything that would compromise your happiness and wellbeing. If he does contrive to tear you apart, as you say, I have no doubt that he would relent when he saw the effect it had on you."

"At least I know I have you on my side," Kíli replied with a smile. Fíli grinned back.

"Always," he promised. "And Bofur likes Tauriel, as does Óin. I'm afraid Uncle Thorin will simply have no choice but to accept her."

"What of her family?" Kíli asked, frowning. "Who are her parents? What will they say to this match?"

"Her parents are dead," Fíli replied. "We spoke of it earlier," he added in response to Kíli's confused look. "She said King Thranduil has been as a father to her, and Legolas like a brother."

"Then it is no wonder that she is afraid of King Thranduil's reaction to her actions," Kíli murmured. "But how did you come to such a topic?"

"Well, we didn't _just_ talk about you," Fíli replied with a grin. "We spoke of a few other things as well. One of them was Tauriel's parents. I have told you all I know of the matter. Tauriel's parents died when she was young, she was raised by Thranduil, and Legolas is like her brother. That is all she told me."

"Thank you for relating it to me," Kíli replied, sounding slightly distracted. Before their conversation could continue, they heard the sound of soft little feet padding across the ground. It was Tilda, rubbing her eyes.

"I cannot sleep," she told Kíli. "Sigrid and Bain are already sleeping, and so is Da, and I don't want to wake them."

"Why can't you sleep, child?" Kíli asked, gesturing for Tilda to lay her head in his lap. She did, and Kíli maneuvered her so she wasn't touching his injury at all.

"I can't stop thinking," Tilda replied. "Will you sing me a lullaby? Ma used to sing to me, when I was very little."

Fíli shot Kíli a sightly doubtful look that Kíli completely ignored. "Shall I sing you the song my mother used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep?" Kíli asked. Tilda nodded, curling up against Kíli slightly, who began to sing.

_"Far over the Misty Mountains cold…"_

* * *

><p><strong>I've always been of the opinion that Kíli shaves his beard for his archery, although I know some people believe his beard just hasn't come in yet. As an archer, however, it would make sense for him to shave, and as a 77 year old dwarf, his beard ought to be longer than it is.<strong>

**Westron is the Common Tongue of Middle Earth - the one they all speak in the movies that sounds suspiciously like English. Sindarin is the most well-known elven language, and Khuzdul is the secret dwarf language, as explained in chapter seven.**


	10. Chapter 10

Elves didn't require sleep anywhere near as much as humans or dwarves, so Tauriel stayed awake through the entire night, watching over the others as they slept. In her hands, she held the star Kíli had made her. She wasn't entirely sure how she was to react to such a thing. Among the elves, gifts were not entirely uncommon. However, a gift made with your own hands was far more precious and far more rare. Such things were normally only shared among those who were close, be they family or dear friends. Tauriel didn't know what the significance was among dwarves, but considering Kíli had made gifts for Brigit and Dominic, and she had seen that Bard's children also had woodcarvings, she wasn't sure that handmade gifts had the same meaning for them.

Tauriel looked down at her gift again. The star was beautiful, hewn in a fairly simple shape but covered in tiny engravings of vines and leaves and flowers of the forest that Tauriel so loved. She found the star nearly as precious to her as the one who had made it.

It wasn't until dawn that Tauriel had reason to wake any of the others. But as the sun began to rise above the horizon, she noticed a group moving across the Desolation, coming towards them. Silently, she stood and moved to the highest point around the camp, peering towards the group. She recognized the two in the front, one of them riding an unmistakable elk.

Thranduil and Legolas were leading an army of elves towards them.

Swiftly, Tauriel returned to the dwarves and Bard, all of whom she shook awake gently. "My king is approaching, and he brings with him many elves. Legolas rides by his side."

"Why would King Thranduil come here?" Bofur asked, immediately awake. Fíli and Kíli were equally aware and the three of them crept out from where the others were sleeping. Bard was the last and the least awake, which was understandable; he was not so trained as the others were at waking instantly.

"I know not," Tauriel replied. "Perhaps he comes to help. News of Smaug's death must have traveled, and I would not doubt that he knows of the destruction of Esgaroth. Perhaps he wishes to give us aid."

"How far are they from us?" Fíli demanded.

"I believe it will take them near to an hour to reach us," Tauriel replied. Kíli frowned.

"Should we meet them halfway?" he suggested. "We can ascertain their purpose and negotiate with the Elvenking without all of the town watching us."

"Without the Master, you mean," Bard put in dryly. "I agree with Kíli. We ought to travel to them even as they travel to us."

"You should dress," Tauriel suggested. All four men were half dressed, as they wished to be prepared, but they weren't fit to go before a king.

"Don't you think Thranduil will prefer us as we are?" Kíli teased, striking a pose with his untied shirt hanging open across his chest. Tauriel arched an eyebrow, to which his only reply was a wink. Fíli cuffed him on the head as they went to dress. Tauriel had to admit to herself that she was completely out of her depth when it came to the younger prince of the Durin line. While Tauriel excelled at her job and at destroying evil things, she was aware of her limitations when it came to relating to others and having normal conversations about things that weren't related to weaponry, archery, and slaughtering the aforesaid evil things. The exception to that was Legolas, her oldest and dearest friend, who was as a brother to her. With him, Tauriel could speak freely, with no worry about what Legolas might think. But with most people, she didn't know what to say or do. Especially with Kíli; dwarf customs were so different from elvish ones, and she sometimes felt that their friendship was teetering on the edge of ruin due to their differences.

And yet, Kíli had become dear to Tauriel, too dear for her to lose him. If she had to, Tauriel was determined to fight to keep their friendship. She would do whatever it took, but she would not let him slip away.

Before too long, Kíli and the others were dressed and ready to go before Thranduil and Legolas. Tauriel led the way, followed by Fíli and Kíli. She had heard their hissed argument about whether or not Kíli would take his staff with him; Kíli wanted to go without it, so as not to show weakness, but Fíli insisted that Kíli was being an idiot and ought to put his physical wellbeing before his pride. Fíli won the argument, so Kíli limped along with his staff. Tauriel absentmindedly wondered if he would actually carve images onto it, or if that had merely been more of his teasing. She admitted that she wasn't very skilled at discerning jests from truth. Behind Fíli and Kíli were Bard and Bofur, engaged in some murmured conversation. Tauriel wondered if they should have gotten Óin, but he was still engaged in healing. The medical area was his place, whereas negotiations with Thranduil was theirs.

"My king," Tauriel murmured as they approached, immediately dropping into a low bow. Thranduil did not move, a stern expression on his face. He didn't dismount from his elk.

"Tauriel," Thranduil stated coldly. "I am surprised that you have come before me again, after what you did." Next to him, Legolas looked down, avoiding both Tauriel's gaze and his father's.

"My king," Tauriel murmured. "I apologize for my actions, but-"

"Elvenking," Fíli interrupted, stepping up. "What is your intention here on the Desolation?"

"Ah, one of the young dwarves," Thranduil drawled. Tauriel knew that he was as aware as she that the proper term, and the one which the dwarves preferred, was dwarrows. She supposed he didn't use it in a petty attempt to insult them. "Why are you not with your King-Who-Is-Not, in Erebor?"

"That does not concern you," Fíli replied in a tight voice. Legolas looked up, catching sight of Kíli next to him.

"You saved the black-haired archer," he remarked quietly to Tauriel, still not looking her in the eye. She nodded.

"Did the orc not promise that he would die?" Thranduil asked.

"He nearly did," Tauriel replied quietly. "I was able to save him."

"How wonderful, that you saved a dwarf and abandoned your prince," Thranduil remarked sarcastically. Legolas shifted next to him.

"She did not abandon me, Father," he mumbled, even though Tauriel was fairly certain she had. "We decided that she would remain to save the dwarrow, and she would rejoin me when able." Tauriel schooled her expressions furiously; she could not allow her surprise at Legolas' fabricated story to show on her face.

"And yet she never did," Thranduil remarked.

"Smaug attacked Esgaroth," Tauriel interjected. "I had to flee, along with the others. And my help has been needed in tending to the wounded."

"You should have gone after Legolas, as you told him you would," Thranduil hissed. Tauriel couldn't meet his eyes. This confrontation was all she feared it would be, and she hated it.

"Father, she was helping those who were injured," Legolas protested. "And I was already on my way back to Mirkwood. She would not have found me."

"I am displeased with you as well, son," Thranduil said coldly, making Legolas shrink back immediately. "Do not test my temper now."

"King Thranduil." This time, it was Bard who had spoken, stepping in front of Tauriel and the others. "I am Bard of Lake-town, Slayer of Smaug. What business do you have with us?"

"Do you speak for your people now?" Thranduil asked, a derisive look on his face. "I must have been mistaken in my belief that you were a simple bargeman."

"I am descended from Lord Gideon, of Dale," Bard stated firmly. "I slew the dragon who threatened all of Middle Earth. I have the authority to speak for the people of Lake-town."

"Very well," Thranduil replied dismissively. "I have come to aid the people of Esgaroth, who are surely suffering from a lack of supplies. Am I incorrect in that assumption?"

"And what would you expect in return?" Bard demanded. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I would expect any recompense?" he asked. Bard didn't bat an eyelid. "I would only ask that we remain the friends we have always been. And, as the dwarves who entered the mountain were surely killed, I would ask that you come with me to recover the treasure left in the mountain."

"You have no right to that treasure!" Kíli shouted. Thranduil arched an eyebrow.

"The only one with a right to that treasure, however slim it may have been, would be that dratted Thorin Oakenshield, who is undoubtedly dead."

"We have no evidence that he is dead," Fíli countered. "And, even if he were, I am his nephew and his heir. The right to the mountain passes to me."

"And, in return for our gracious help, you surely would not begrudge my right to a few gems," Thranduil replied, recovering from the surprise with barely a hint of his emotions on his face. "I believe you know of the ones of which I speak."

"The white gems which look like starlight," Fíli replied grimly, evidently remembering the conversation he had held with Tauriel the day before. "I know of your desires, Elvenking, but I do not know why I should give them any heed."

"Your uncle is surely dead," Thranduil hissed, his anger finally showing on his face. "If you are the new King Under the Mountain, you must learn how to rule. You will need to make allies in your time as king, not drive them away. And mark my words, _boy_, you would prefer me as your ally to your enemy."

"King Thranduil, I believe all of us need time to consider our options," Bard interjected quickly. "Perhaps we could have some time to discuss, and you could think over matters."

"Return to your camp," Thranduil replied imperiously. "My army and I will camp here, and I will visit you in an hour's time."

"Do not bestir yourself," Bard replied. "We will come to you instead. An hour's time?"

"An hour's time," Thranduil confirmed, inclining his head the tiniest bit. "Your generosity is…appreciated. I hope you have chosen the most reasonable course of action when you return."

"Of course," Bard replied. He turned to go, prompting the others to do so as well.

"Oh, I had nearly forgotten," Thranduil called as they began to leave. "Legolas, did you not wish to tell the dwarves and Tauriel what you discovered?"

"Legolas?" Tauriel asked curiously, a bit worried about what Legolas had apparently found. Legolas looked up, finally meeting her eyes.

_"I found-"_ he began in Sindarin, but Thranduil cut him off.

"I believe the dwarves would like to know as well," he remarked offhandedly. Legolas swallowed hard.

"I found an orc camp on the Desolation," he told Tauriel quietly, his eyes focused on her. "I believe they planned to march on Erebor."

Tauriel set her jaw, nodding sharply. Kíli opened his mouth to say something, but Fíli put his hand on his shoulder, apparently digging his fingers in, from the little yelp Kíli let out. "Thank you for telling us," Fíli stated in a steady voice, manhandling his brother into facing forwards. The group returned to the camp, quietly slipping back to their little spot. The children hadn't yet awoken.

"Poor prince," Bofur remarked as they all sat around the remains of their fire. "His father can't be easy to live with."

"Do not insult my king," Tauriel cut in sternly. Bofur shrugged.

"Not saying he's a bad king, but his relationship with that prince seemed strained."

"We have other things to worry about," Kíli cut in, eyes narrowed. "An orc camp on the way to Erebor? We have to warn Uncle Thorin."

"Do you think that King Thranduil could be correct in assuming him to be dead?" Bard asked cautiously.

"No," Fíli and Kíli replied in unison. Bard bowed his head apologetically.

"I do not wish it any more than you. But we must be prepared. Fíli, as you are your uncle's heir, you must be ready to take the throne if he cannot. A lapse in leadership, now that the Lonely Mountain has been reclaimed, will not end well."

"If I must, I will take the throne, although I hope I do not have to," Fíli replied quietly.

"You won't have to," Kíli put in firmly. "Uncle Thorin isn't dead. He'll be alive and well when we reach Erebor, I'm sure of it." Even as he proclaimed his surety, Tauriel could see the hint of doubt on his face and hear the edge of it in his words. She was certain Bofur and Fíli knew of it too. She wasn't sure if Bard could sense it, though, and he was the one they needed to convince the most.

"What do we do with Thranduil?" Bofur asked. "He won't help us if we don't promise him something in return. And he's as aware as we are that we need him. We don't have enough food for everyone here. We were thinking about going to ask him for aid anyway. He's offering it now, and we have to accept."

"I can negotiate in Uncle Thorin's stead, with my position as his heir," Fíli put in. "If Erebor is as rich as the stories say, then surely we can afford to give Thranduil some of the white gems he wishes. If he does help us, we will have to give him some sort of recompense."

"I don't like it," Bofur remarked. "Thranduil is manipulating the situation. I wish we could have it end up in a way that's not the way he wants."

"We can't allow pettiness to get in the way of the wellbeing of the people of Lake-town," Fíli instructed firmly.

"Can we talk about the damned orc camp?" Kíli interrupted. "There are orcs on their way to Erebor, to kill the rest of the Company!"

"King Thranduil has no love for orcs," Tauriel put in softly. "He may help, if he is promised something in return."

"And chances are we'll need him, if it's a sizable camp," Fíli groaned. "He's got us cornered."

"Who gives a damn about the stupid gems Thranduil wants?" Kíli half-shouted. Fíli was quick to quiet him. "We can't leave Uncle Thorin and the others to face an orc camp on their own," Kíli hissed furiously.

"Bard, you and I should go back to Thranduil," Fíli declared. "Tauriel, can you speak with the prince and get more information about the orc camp?"

"Gladly," Tauriel replied, happy to do something to help. Kíli looked distinctly unhappy about that, but Tauriel couldn't understand why.

"Kíli, you and Bofur should go to the cooks. Tell them that the food situation is going to be taken care of. We'll have the supplies Thranduil gives us to supplement our own." Kíli nodded at his brother, following his order without a remark. Tauriel stood.

"I shall go find Legolas," she declared. "We had better discover more about this orc camp as soon as possible."

"Good luck," Kíli offered. Tauriel offered him a slight smile in return before turning to return to other elves. It was strange, she reflected, that she felt more at home in the ragtag Lake-town camp, with the dwarves and humans and no other elves, than she felt she would be with the elves of Mirkwood.

Legolas was on the outskirts of the camp when Tauriel arrived, apparently expecting her. "Tauriel," he stated. "You seem friendly with the dwarrows."

"They are not so bad, when you get to know them," Tauriel replied. "Thank you for covering for me, with your father."

"Of course," Legolas replied, although he looked a little hurt. Tauriel put her hand on his.

"You do understand why I did it, do you not? I could not let Kíli die painfully when I could help. I did not mean to choose him over you."

"I understand," Legolas replied, nodding slightly, the hurt melting away from his expression. "I assume you are here to ask about the orc camp?"

"I cannot allow those scum to roam around this world when I can stop them," Tauriel replied. Legolas nodded.

"I understand," he replied. "What do you want to know?"

* * *

><p><strong>The theory that elves don't need much sleep is unfounded in the books, as far as I know, but was merely an assumption of mine, due to the other differences between elves and other creatures in the books. The idea of handmade gifts being special among elves is also my own creation.<strong>

**The idea of Tauriel being awkward in social situations comes from some of her actions in the movie, especially the conversation about the runestone between her and Kíli in the dungeons in Mirkwood.**

**I personally subscribe to the theory that Thranduil is either blind or at least severely visually impaired due to his encounter with a dragon, so he is subtly written in such a way. If you disagree with this theory, there is never a confirmation on whether or not he is blind within this story, and his character can be read as sighted.**

**Legolas and Thranduil's tense relationship is based on the differences in their characters in the movies, but is not substantiated by anything in the books, as Tolkien has practically nothing on their relationship in his writings.**


	11. Chapter 11

When Tauriel returned to the camp, it was with Legolas in tow, much to Kíli's displeasure. He had already done what Fíli had asked him to do; he and Bofur had gone to the cooks and told them about the new food coming. Fíli and Bard had already left to meet with Thranduil, and Bofur had gone to find Óin and tell him what had been happening. Kíli was waiting with the children, in case they woke up, but he was bored. He had been waiting for Tauriel to return so he would have someone to talk to. But if her coming back meant that he would have to deal with the dratted elf princeling, Kíli didn't look forward to it quite as much.

"Kíli!" Tauriel called as she saw him. Kíli smiled at her, which was much easier when he ignored Legolas at her side.

"Fíli and Bard have gone to meet with Thranduil already, and Bofur is off to speak with Óin, so I'm all yours," he told her with a winning grin. Legolas made a scoffing noise, but Kíli thought Tauriel looked more tolerant of his remarks.

"Legolas and I were speaking on the orc camp, and we thought it may be more effective if we were to do so with you and the other dwarrows present," Tauriel replied. Legolas muttered something in Sindarin to her, which she ignored. "And I thought," she added pointedly, "that we ought to all speak in Westron, so as not to exclude anyone."

"Gladly," Kíli replied. Legolas rolled his eyes. He seemed to care for Tauriel, but Kíli wasn't sure that he did so in the same way Kíli himself did. He hoped their relationship was more platonic; what chance did he have against an elf prince?

"If I must," Legolas sighed in a long-suffering voice.

"I hope you two may be friends," Tauriel remarked, looking from Legolas to Kíli. "You are very similar, in many ways. I believe you could come to being amicable."

"Doubtful," Legolas scoffed. Kíli felt the same, although he kept the thought to himself. Tauriel was giving Legolas a disapproving look, which Kíli was quite glad not to be on the receiving end of.

"Legolas, would you tell Kíli what you told me of the orcs?" Tauriel asked. Legolas sighed, sitting gracefully and yet also in a huff. Kíli sat as well, suddenly very aware of his staff and injured leg and how they made his actions slightly clumsy.

"It was a fairly small camp," Legolas said, sounding very bored. "It was led by the orc who shot you. They called him Bolg." Kíli clenched his teeth, reaching down subtly to touch his wound. "I fought him, but he managed to escape," Legolas added, looking annoyed at the very thought. Kíli was secretly glad that Bolg was alive; he wanted to kill the orc who had shot him himself.

"How fast were they going?" Kíli asked tersely.

"Unless they are in a very great rush, orcs do not travel much while the sun is up," Legolas replied. "However, they are not incapable of it. Either way, I believe the orcs will reach Erebor before you do." Kíli frowned. "My father may be able to be persuaded to send a small group of elves to deal with the orcs," Legolas added. "Your brother would have to speak to him on that point as they negotiate."

"Should you not attend these negotiations, as the prince?" Kíli asked curiously. After he had come of age, Thorin had begun taking him with him when he would negotiate. He had done the same with Fíli, wanting both of his heirs to be familiar with negotiation tactics and those with whom they might need to negotiate. Kíli had assumed it was the same with all princes.

Legolas's expression abruptly closed off. "I broke my father's trust by leaving Mirkwood," he told Kíli, sounding as if he were reciting something he had heard before. "Because of that, he no longer trusts me to aid him in negotiations for the time being." Tauriel looked at Legolas with concern. Kíli had to admit he felt a bit bad for him as well. Bofur was right; Thranduil didn't sound like an easy father to have.

Kíli knew the damage had already been done, but he decided to drop the topic so as not to make it worse. "I will speak to Fíli about adding that stipulation to his negotiations," he stated. "The people of Lake-town are beginning to wake. We should prepare them to to leave before the hour gets too late. Even with the added supplies, we ought not to waste any time."

"You speak the truth," Tauriel replied quietly. "However, we have a complication I do not believe you have considered."

Kíli frowned. "And that is?"

"The Master of Lake-town," she replied. Kíli swore under his breath. He _had_ forgotten about him, and considering Bard has usurped his authority to speak on behalf of Lake-town, they would have to deal with him before too long.

"He has lost the support of the people," Kíli replied, thinking hard. "And if he rejects what we have done, then he will only lose it more. Lake-town has not had to pay the price for this food, and it was desperately needed. If he understands that, he will not speak against us. If he does not, then he will look a fool and a tyrant."

"Many of the people of Lake-town already believe him to be a fool and a tyrant," Tauriel remarked. Kíli grinned.

"Exactly."

"And, if the people lose faith in their current Master, who do you wish to be the new one?" Legolas asked with an arched eyebrow. "Know that the elves of Mirkwood will have a stake in the new leader. We are allies with Lake-town, and we would wish for a leader who would continue that."

"Ideally, a good leader would be Bard," Kíli admitted. "But he has shown little inclination towards it. I do not know the people of Lake-town well enough to choose a leader."

"Many of the common people are uneducated," Tauriel put in. "The new Master would have to have some schooling."

"We would have to be careful to avoid any who were greedy or prone to corruption," Kíli added. "Which, if Men are anything like dwarrows, would eliminate a good portion of the town."

"But we could not actively interfere with the elections of the people," Tauriel countered. "We are not of Lake-town. I doubt they would take kindly to the interference of outsiders in their elections."

"And the people must choose," Kíli sighed. "That is how rulers are chosen here, is it not?"

"The people have elections, but they are often rigged," Legolas explained. He seemed to be joining into the conversation despite his best efforts to distance himself. "If the election were true, then perhaps the people could elect a true representative. As it is, the leaders are often the richest and the least moral, which does not bode well for the actions they will take while in their position of authority."

"So someone would have to watch over the election to make sure the results were true," Tauriel murmured. "But who could do that? They would have to be trusted and virtuous, so they would not rig the election themselves."

"Bard," Kíli replied promptly. "The people trust him. He will not change the results of the election, and I do not believe he would actively support any candidate. He does not wish to sway the thoughts of the people. He and I spoke on this before. The people trust him and would think, rightfully so, that he would not betray them by changing their votes."

"We would have to speak to him about it," Tauriel cautioned.

"If it were for the good of the people, and it is, I cannot think he would refuse," Kíli replied.

"What say you, Legolas?" Tauriel asked. Legolas furrowed his brow slightly in thought.

"I think this plan is sound, although I do not know much of Bard's character. I cannot imagine my father would dislike the plan, as long as there was no change in the relationship between Mirkwood and Lake-town."

"Very well," Kíli replied, nodding once. "We will speak to Bard, and when the people lose faith in their current Master, which will be only a matter of time, this plan may be implemented." Kíli hated to admit it, but Legolas' aid had been useful in the planning. He wouldn't say so to anyone, of course, but it was true.

Just before the silence between the three grew to become awkward, Bard and Fíli returned. Neither of them looked particularly happy, Fíli especially.

"That damned king refuses to even consider that Uncle Thorin is still alive, and yet nor does he afford me the respect I would have as king, were he dead!" Fíli complained loudly. Kíli saw Legolas' expression flicker to discomfort for half a second. Tauriel looked down. Kíli coughed pointedly, and only then did Fíli realize who was there.

"Oh, damn," he swore, seeing Tauriel and Legolas. "I mean no disrespect against your father, Prince Legolas. I apologize for my words."

"My king does not often show respect to dwarrows, no matter their status," Tauriel offered. "I do not mean to insult, only to speak the truth."

"I must return to my father," Legolas stated abruptly, standing. Tauriel stood as well, asking him something in Sindarin. Legolas muttered something in reply before turning and leaving. Tauriel sat down, looking slightly worried.

"I would not have spoken such if I knew he were here," Fíli remarked, looking a bit embarrassed about his outburst. "But I did not lie. Thranduil treated me as a child through the entire proceeding. I know I am young compared to an elf, but I am of age as a dwarrow, and I am the heir to the throne of Erebor, or the king if he is right and Uncle Thorin has passed onto the Halls of Mandos." Kíli gripped his staff so tightly his knuckles went white. He couldn't believe that Thorin was dead. "Thranduil and I were negotiating as equals, and he refused to treat me as such."

"What did you decide?" Kíli asked. Fíli sighed, sitting.

"I have promised Thranduil a portion of the white gems as payment for the food. I could do nothing else. He asked for three small chests full of them, claiming he knew that Erebor held far more than that amount. I managed to lower his number to one slightly larger chest, which would hold about half of his original request. We have not yet spoken about the orcs."

"Legolas said that they are sure to reach the mountain before us," Kíli put in. "He suggested that we speak to Thranduil about sending a small company of elves forward to deal with them."

"We could assemble a group of dwarrows, elves, and Men," Fíli murmured, thinking. "Bofur and I would go, and any volunteers from Lake-town. And we would add a few elves to our number as well. It does not need to be a large group. But if we were all represented, it might help promote increased amounts of goodwill among us."

"I do not know if there are any among the people of Lake-town who would join in on such a mission," Bard cautioned. "Most of us have little experience at fighting. I doubt you would find many who would be willing to go against orcs with you."

"You would have your pick of elves if you were to fight orcs," Tauriel replied. "But convincing them to fight alongside dwarrows may be a problem."

Fíli sighed. "Then perhaps an elf-only group is best," he replied. "But I plan to speak to Uncle Thorin about bettering the relationship between the dwarrows of Erebor and the elves of Mirkwood. It does no one good for us to be at odds with each other, especially as we are such close neighbors."

"Such an agreement may not last without something to bind it," Tauriel remarked. Fíli shot Kíli a look. It was short, but Kíli knew its meaning and did not appreciate it. After all, one of the most common ways to seal an alliance was through marriage, and a marriage between the second prince of Erebor and the Elvenking's ward would work as well as any. But Kíli knew that elves were slow to wed, and they only did so if a strong emotional attachment was already in place. He could not allow himself to hope that such a thing would ever occur between himself and Tauriel, or the inevitable disappointment would crush him.

"We would find a way," Kíli replied shortly. Tauriel looked slightly confused at his change of tone, but she didn't mention it.

"We should begin to move before too long," Bard suggested, standing. "I'll go make sure that the cooks are prepared to begin breakfast."

"I should go check on the medical area to see if my assistance is needed," Tauriel added standing.

"Kíli, will you help me prepare for my next negotiations with Thranduil?" Fíli asked. Kíli raised his eyebrow slightly at the request, but acquiesced. He waited until the others were gone to ask about it.

"We both know you don't need my help in negotiating with the Elvenking," Kíli told Fíli when they were alone. Fíli shrugged.

"No, but I want to talk with you alone. It seemed as good an excuse as any."

"What do you wish to talk about so privately?" Kíli asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him he already knew.

"You know as well as I," Fíli replied, confirming Kíli's fears.

"I don't want to talk to you about Tauriel," Kíli grumbled. Fíli sighed.

"When are you going to do something about it?" he demanded. "She clearly cares for you as much as you care for her-"

"Don't lie to me, Fíli," Kíli snapped, standing. Fíli stared at him, confused.

"I'm not lying," he protested. Kíli gritted his teeth. "Kee, truly. I would not lie to you about something such as this."

"Tauriel does not care for me as I care for her," Kíli replied firmly. "That much is clear. Please do not attempt to comfort me with lies, Fíli. I cannot bear it."

"Kíli!" Fíli cried, but Kíli had already turned to go. Without being consciously aware of it, his feet took him to the medical area, where Tauriel was. He grinned humorlessly at the thought. Of course he would go to her, even unconsciously.

Brigit and Dominic were sleeping, so Kíli quieted as he approached. Tauriel still seemed to hear him, as she looked up as he approached. "Did Fíli not need your help?" she asked curiously.

"I'm here to check on Óin and find Bofur," Kíli lied quickly. "Do you know where they are?"

"I believe Óin is over there," Tauriel replied, gesturing over towards where a few healers were gathered. "I have not seen Bofur, but I would think he would be there as well."

"Thank you," Kíli replied, inclining his head slightly. As he had already lied to Tauriel about his intentions, Kíli thought it best to stick to his story and go to the others, even though he didn't have much of a need to do so. Before he was out of earshot, Tauriel called him back.

"Yes?" Kíli asked, realizing with surprise that Tauriel was holding the star he had carved her.

"I did not thank you properly for this gift," she said quietly. "I appreciate it greatly. It is beautiful. You have great skill."

"You're welcome," Kíli replied, dumbstruck. He had never truly expected Tauriel to thank him for the carving. He had thought she would not bring it up again. He was glad that she had.

Tauriel looked down, seeming to be slightly embarrassed. Kíli cleared his throat.

"So, um, I'll be off to find Óin and Bofur," he remarked. Tauriel nodded.

"Yes, of course," she replied. "I will see you later, yes?"

"Of course," Kíli replied before he turned and fled. He had to get as far away from Tauriel as possible before he could convince himself, no matter the evidence to the contrary, that Fíli was right.

* * *

><p><strong>I personally prefer to think that the relationship between Legolas and Tauriel is more platonic than it seems in the movie, as I hate love triangles just for the sake of drama, so I've portrayed Legolas and Tauriel as having more of a sibling-like relationship than a romantic one.<strong>

**Thranduil, in this story, isn't evil or a villain; he is merely - as shown in the movies - an expert at manipulation and fairly disinterested in the problems of others unless they affect him. He isn't interested in risking anything without the potential for gain, unless he has no other choice. He's not a bad guy, per say, but nor is he especially altruistic.**

**Elves only marry when they are deeply in love with the other person, and they would never dream of adultery or remarrying. Sex, for them, is something only done with a spouse and to bear children. Thus, the thought that an elf would be forced into a marriage for diplomatic reasons is fairly unlikely, which Kíli is aware of.**


	12. Chapter 12

Bard couldn't stop staring.

He had always seen the Lonely Mountain from a distance, knowing that it was huge. But now that he was at its foot, staring up at its height, it was different. He couldn't quite believe he was really there.

"It's _huge_!" Kíli whispered, reminding Bard that even the heirs to the Mountain hadn't ever seen it up close before.

"Aye, laddie, that it is," Bofur replied, letting out a low whistle. "I never thought I'd really see it."

"Neither did I," Bard put in. "Isn't it huge, children?" he asked his children, who were staring in awe.

"It's the biggest thing I've ever seen," Tilda replied solemnly. Bain and Sigrid seemed similarly awed.

"Bard!" Fíli called, running to the back of the group to find Bard and the others, who were subtly keeping pace with Kíli and his limp. Fíli would be with them if not for his position as Thorin's heir; Thranduil kept him in negotiations all of the time. "Thranduil wants to talk to you." Bard sighed, looking over at Kíli, who nodded. He didn't even have to ask for Kíli to keep an eye on his children anymore; they both knew he would.

"I'm coming," Bard replied, following Fíli. He didn't trust Thranduil. It wasn't that the Elvenking didn't keep his word, for he did; he had give the people of Lake-town the food he had promised and he had sent a group of elves to get rid of the orc camp, who had returned victorious, having disbanded the camp and slain nearly all of the orcs. But he was manipulative, Bard knew, and he didn't think Thranduil would hesitate to do anything if it meant getting what he wanted. Bard couldn't help but worry that Thranduil was playing everything to his advantage, and given what he had seen of the Elvenking, he thought the worry was probably grounded in reality.

"What does Thranduil want?" Bard asked as he and Fíli returned to the front of the group. Fíli shrugged.

"Something diplomatic about negotiations with Uncle Thorin, I believe," he replied. Bard sighed. The Master was still in charge of Lake-town, but in name only; the people had lost all confidence in him and he was aware of it. As the people trusted Bard, the Master had put him in charge of all negotiations and diplomatic missions, meaning that he was basically in charge of the entire town. As little as Bard liked his new job, he knew it was necessary and refrained from complaining too much.

"King Thranduil," Bard proclaimed with a bow as he reached the front of the group, where Thranduil was riding on his enormous elk. "Prince Fíli has informed me that you have asked for my presence. What is it that you require?"

"Ride with me," Thranduil stated, waving a hand. A nearby elf immediately dismounted and handed Bard the reins of his horse. The elven cavalry was small, Bard had noticed; most of the soldiers were on foot.

Hoping that his inexperience with riding wasn't too noticeable, Bard clamored onto the horse. "What is it you wish to speak of, King Thranduil?"

"Considering the position your Master has given you, I am led to believe that you will be negotiating with the dwarves of Erebor, if any remain in the mountain, on Lake-town's behalf, correct?" Thranduil asked, sounding bored. Bard had, according to Fíli's wishes, decided to wait to negotiate Lake-town's portion of Erebor's riches until they had found out if Thorin still lived.

"Yes, I am in charge of negotiations with the dwarrows," Bard replied, making a point out of using the correct term. Thranduil's lip curled slightly.

"In that case, as we are to negotiate together, we ought to prepare together, ought we not?" Thranduil asked. Bard frowned slightly. "Of course, we will still both speak to Thorin, if he lives, on our own behalf," Thranduil added. "But one cannot enter into negotiations unprepared, of course." Bard decided not to say that he had barely spent any time preparing his own negotiations with Thranduil and had completed them mostly through improvisation.

"What would you have us prepare?" Bard asked. Thranduil gestured grandly.

"If Thorin lives, what are we to say?"

"If _King_ Thorin lives," Bard replied, putting an extra emphasis on the title, "I believe we have very different things to ask of him. Unless I am incorrect, you will ask for the rewards for which you and Prince Fíli have negotiated. I will be speaking to King Thorin about the reward he promised to Lake-town and reminding him of his vow to see it great again, and I will be asking for compensation for what we did to slay the dragon. I do not see why we must plan our negotiations together."

"Very well," Thranduil replied with a sigh. They were nearly at the mountain by that point. "I will tell my army to halt and make camp here. I would suggest you tell your people to do the same. The two of us may continue on to Erebor."

"As you say," Bard replied. Thranduil raised a hand and his entire army stopped immediately. The people of Lake-town began to stop as well, looking confused. "People of Lake-town!" Bard yelled. "You shall make your camp here, while I go to negotiate with King Thorin of Erebor. We will have our promised riches soon." The people cheered, if a bit feebly.

"What of the dwarrows?" Bard asked, turning to search for Fíli and Kíli in the crowd. As Thorin's heirs, he thought they ought to be at the negotiations. Thranduil waved a dismissive hand.

"Their help is not needed. We go now to speak to the King Under the Mountain. If there is no king there, we shall return and tell them. But for now, they ought to stay here."

"If you believe it is best," Bard replied, a tinge of doubt in his voice. Thranduil's elk began to make its way towards the mountain, prompting Bard to spur his horse so as to catch up.

"Who approaches?" a voice yelled from an upper lookout post as Bard and Thranduil reached the mountain. Bard thought he vaguely recognized it as one of the dwarves, but he wasn't sure which one.

"King Thranduil, of the Woodland Realm," Thranduil called up, sounding almost bored.

"And Bard of Lake-town, Slayer of Smaug," Bard added. "We are here to negotiate with King Thorin." There was a pause for a moment.

"I will fetch the king," the dwarf yelled down. Bard and Thranduil waited. A few moments later, Thorin appeared in the giant opening of the mountain. Bard immediately noticed the differences between the Thorin he had first met and the one standing before him. The new Thorin looked more regal than the old one, with neater hair and a crown. But there was something in his face that Bard didn't like, a look in his eyes or an expression that he wore or something of the like. Bard suddenly had a feeling the negotiations wouldn't go as well as he had thought they would.

"Thranduil the betrayer," Thorin stated, stepping forward. Bard almost dismounted, but he saw that Thranduil clearly had no intentions of doing the same. Bard knew it was important that he be on equal footing with Thranduil, no pun intended, so he remained on his horse. "I did not think you would dare come here."

"I have been engaged in negotiations with your nephew and heir these past few days," Thranduil replied. "In exchange for the food and aid I have given, he has promised me recompense."

"Fíli is not authorized to negotiate on my behalf," Thorin replied flatly. Bard saw something flash in Thranduil's eyes and thought it was high time he cut in.

"King Thorin." Bard urged his horse forward a step. Thorin turned to look at him. "I am pleased to see that you yet live. When Smaug left the mountain, we feared the worst."

"I have heard you now call yourself the Slayer of Smaug," Thorin stated. Bard nodded once.

"You may ask any of the men of Lake-town, or your own kin who remained with us. I shot the last Black Arrow with the wind-lance and slew the dragon."

"And I suppose you wish recompense as well," Thorin replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Lake-town is in ruins. You promised us that you would help make it great again. I hold you to that promise and ask that you aid us in rebuilding the town."

"In arriving with the elves, you have allied yourself with my enemy," Thorin stated. "Due to that, I consider our agreement void."

Bard was stunned. Of all the things Thorin could have said, he hadn't expected that. "Do you mean to say that you will not help the people of Lake-town?" he asked.

"Not in the least, not so long as you continue to work with my enemies," Thorin replied. "And I will never negotiate with those of the elven realm, nor will I ever give them a single piece of treasure from _my_ mountain."

"You made a vow," Bard accused. "You swore that you would help those of Lake-town. You cannot rescind a vow due to circumstances you do not like. King Thranduil and his elves have helped us, yes, but that does not mean that we are against you."

"I have given my answer, Bard of Lake-town," Thorin declared. "I will not change it."

"This will not be borne," Thranduil warned. "I have been promised white gems by your nephew, and you yourself made a vow to the men of Lake-town. If you will not keep these promises, there will be blood."

Bard clenched his fist. He didn't want to declare war on Thorin, but the king was giving him no choice. "Will you have peace, or war?" he asked in a tight voice. Thorin's expression was hard as stone.

"I will have war," he growled. Bard let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"So be it," he said quietly. Thranduil turned his elk around and began to ride back to the camp. Bard followed him.

"Do not act so grim, Bard of Lake-town," Thranduil murmured. "This war will not go so badly as you think. We have hostages that may yet turn the tide. I cannot imagine Thorin would wish for any harm to befall his nephews."

Bard felt his blood run cold. "We will not use the dwarrows as hostages," he hissed. "I owe them a debt. I will not repay them in such a way."

"Thorin owes you a debt as well," Thranduil countered, "does he not? If you wish to win this war, you must use all advantages that you have."

"We will not use the dwarrows as hostages," Bard repeated. "When we return to camp, I will send them back to Erebor with a group of men from Lake-town. I do not believe they feel the same way as King Thorin does, and they may be able to change his mind. If you join me in this and send some elves of your own to escort the dwarrows to the mountain, it may soften King Thorin's opinion towards you. It will be known, of course, that it was one of your elves who healed Prince Kíli." Keeping track of all of the titles that various people held was slightly confusing, but Bard knew he had to use them while in a formal setting. Although Thranduil used no titles for anyone, Bard knew it was a sign of derision on his part and had no desire to do the same.

"I will send Captain Tauriel with the group," Thranduil replied. "She can explain herself what she has done to help the dwarrows." Bard wondered for a moment why Thranduil was sending Tauriel, whom he had clearly shown he did not trust in the past few days of travel. Then it suddenly made sense; Thranduil was choosing her for exactly that reason. If Thorin took the envoys hostage, which Bard had thought of as a possibility as well, she would not be able to give Thorin much of any information, as Thranduil had not kept her in confidence recently. And, in the king's eyes, she was fairly disposable, as she had shown she was not entirely obedient to him. She was the perfect elf to send for the very reason that Thranduil didn't trust her.

But at the same time, Bard was certain that Kíli wouldn't let anything happen to Tauriel. The dwarves were all fond of her, but Kíli more so than any of the others. If it came down to it, Bard wasn't entirely sure that he would chose her over Thorin, but he would do his best to protect her, Bard was certain. He just had to hope that it wouldn't come down to the worst case scenario.

"What happened?" Fíli asked as Bard returned, looking confused. "Why do you look worried?"

"Are they dead?" Kíli demanded flat-out, clenching his fist. Bard shook his head.

"Thorin is alive, at least. I'm not sure if all the others are as well. Thorin didn't say anything about them."

"Then what's wrong, lad?" Óin demanded.

"Did he say no?" Bofur asked quietly. Bard whipped around to look at him.

"Did you know this would happen?" he demanded. Bofur shook his head.

"No, of course not, but that was the only thing I could think of that would make you look like that. Why did he say no?"

"He refused because I approached him with Thranduil. I reminded him that he made a vow, but he didn't listen," Bard replied. He sighed. "Thranduil wanted to keep you four hostage, but I convinced him not to. I'm going to get together an entourage to escort you to Erebor. Thranduil is sending Tauriel as well."

"She can't come!" Kíli cried. "She's an elf. Thorin will kill her!"

"I thought you might have more faith in me," Tauriel remarked, joining the group. "My king has told me of the negotiations. He is displeased that you wish to free the dwarrows, but his advisors have convinced him it for the best. After all, if King Thorin is willing to declare war over treasure, he could not be unwilling to do it for the lives of his kin."

"Uncle Thorin declared war?" Fíli asked, whipping around to look at Bard. "You didn't say that!"

"I asked if he would have peace or war, and he said he would have war," Bard replied quietly. "And that is why you must leave now. The four of you are our only hope."

"What do you mean?" Kíli asked. Bard sighed.

"I know that you are loyal to your uncle. To your king. And that is commendable. But he cannot fight this war, and neither can we. It is a foolish conflict. You need to convince him to stand down."

"Fíli, Kíli, you must do this," Bofur stated. The brothers turned to look at him with identical shocked looks on their faces.

"Why us?" Fíli demanded.

"Uncle Thorin will skin us alive!" Kíli added.

"He'll do no such thing," Óin replied. "Your uncle loves you, lads. He'll listen to you more than he'd listen to the rest of us."

"He won't listen to me," Kíli muttered. Fíli sighed.

"Uncle cares about you as much as he cares about me!" he retorted. Kíli ignored him. Bard thought it was best for him to interfere before the two of them got into an argument.

"For now, we need to get you four over to Erebor," he cut in. All four dwarves looked at him. "When you're there, do what you can."

"Do you not need to pick the escorts?" Tauriel suggested. Bard swore.

"Yes, of course." Finding people wasn't too difficult; Bard knew who to send and they were willing, so it wasn't a problem. Bard just hoped that things would work out, that Thorin would back down and regain his senses.

If he didn't, Bard wasn't quite sure what would happen next, but he doubted things would end well.

* * *

><p><strong>The idea that the elven cavalry would be small is based off the fact that elves fighting on horseback has never been seen in the movies (I believe), except for Legolas. However, I assumed that there would be some sort of cavalry, as they're historically the most mobile unit of soldiers. Bard is inexperienced at riding because he lives in Lake-town and never has had any need to ride before now.<strong>

**Thorin's reaction to Bard and Thranduil coming is a modified version of the negotiations in chapter 15 of the book; in the original book, this is when he first meets Bard, so there were some changes in this version, as Jackson has the dwarves meet Bard earlier. The "will you have peace or war?" exchange is taken from the trailer for Battle of the Five Armies, although I know it doesn't quite fit into the movie canon, considering Kíli is standing next to Thorin in the trailer.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Apologies that the chapter is a day late; I was busy yesterday and didn't manage to get it up.**

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><p>Kíli's first time entering Erebor didn't really go as he thought it would.<p>

Whenever he had pictured going on this quest with Thorin, he had always thought that he would stay by his uncle's side the whole time. He had imagined finding the secret door and creeping in, then slaying the dragon and seizing the victory. He, Fíli, Thorin, and the rest of the Company would have all of the riches of the mountain, and they would throw open the doors and make everything as grand as it had been back before Smaug had set eyes on the Lonely Mountain. It would be a grand, victorious time, and Kíli had been sure he would remember it as one of the greatest moments in his life.

What actually happened was _not_ one of the greatest moments in his life.

"King Thorin!" Tauriel called as they reached the mountain, as the men Bard had supplied were more than happy to let her take the lead. "We have escorted back your nephews and heirs, as well as the other two members of your Company who remained in Lake-town. King Thranduil and Bard wish for this to be a demonstration of generosity between us, to show that they bear you no ill will."

"Generosity?" Thorin stated, standing at the ruined gates with a crown on his head and fury in his eyes. "You call it generosity to have me barter for hostages?"

"There will be no bartering, as the dwarrows are not hostages," Tauriel countered. "They are returned to you freely, as I said, in a gesture of generosity and goodwill."

"Then why do they have such an escort?" Thorin retorted. "If they are really free, then why are they brought with such guards?"

"For their safety," Tauriel replied, sounding a tiny bit worried. "We wished to make sure they arrived safely. There have been orcs in these parts, and we would not have your Company attacked on their way here."

"Nor would you have them flee and reach here without you," Thorin accused. Fíli stepped up beside Tauriel, and Kíli took the hint that it was time to lend her their support. He was glad of it; Kíli wasn't sure he could have listened to Thorin attack Tauriel for much longer before interfering.

"Uncle, Captain Tauriel speaks the truth," Fíli declared. "We are free and coming here of our own free will. We were attacked by orcs in Lake-town and were told that there were more orcs on the Desolation. A group of elves went to dispatch them, but there may yet be more."

"So you too would work with elves against me?" Thorin growled. "You too would ally with my enemies and go against Erebor?"

"No one is going against anyone, Uncle," Kíli replied, stepping forward. "Must there be sides in this argument? Must the prejudices of the past blind us to the reality of the present? The elves have been helpful to us, and helpful to the people of Lake-town. Can you not change your opinions as the circumstances change?"

"Kíli, you speak of things you do not understand," Thorin growled. Kíli bristled, but Fíli's hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying something he would regret.

"Uncle, Captain Tauriel saved Kíli's life when we all thought him to be lost to Mahal's Halls," Fíli called, gripping Kíli's shoulder more tightly as he spoke the words. "The elves are not our enemies."

"If you are truly free, then come inside," Thorin growled. "I will have no more of this."

Kíli and Fíli looked at each other, then turned to Bofur and Óin. Kíli could see in their eyes that none of them wanted to choose sides in that way, but they all were aware there was no other option. Slowly, the four dwarrows moved forward to enter the mountain. Tauriel took a step forward as well.

"Do not take another step, elf!" Thorin shouted. Everyone stopped immediately, turning to look at Tauriel. "If you come any closer to this mountain, I will have you killed."

"Uncle!" Kíli cried out, but Fíli gripped his hand tightly to stop him from adding anything else. Kíli ripped himself free from his brother's grip and pointedly walked over to Tauriel.

"Thank you," he told her quietly. He could hear Thorin calling him, sounding furious, but he ignored it. "Thank you for all you've done. I promise, we will do all we can to stop this war."

"Stay safe," Tauriel murmured, gently laying her hand on Kíli's.

"You as well," Kíli replied. Tauriel squeezed his hand gently, then turned to go. Kíli turned away as well, rejoining Fíli and the others as they entered Erebor.

Immediately, Thorin grabbed Kíli by the collar and shoved him against the wall, sending pain rocketing through Kíli's whole body. His partially-healed ribs screamed at the pressure, and his leg radiated out burning pain. "What in Mahal's name was that?" Thorin hissed. The others were all protesting in the background, Óin crying out that Kíli was still injured and Fíli begging Thorin to let him go, but Kíli could only focus on his uncle.

"She saved my life," Kíli hissed. "She's been nothing but kind towards us since you left us behind in Lake-town. Tauriel is my friend, and-"

"You call that elf your _friend_?" Thorin demanded, shoving Kíli against the wall even harder. Kíli gasped out in pain. Immediately, Fíli and Bofur jumped forward and pulled Thorin off Kíli, who crumpled to the ground as his leg gave out under him, breathing raggedly.

"Uncle, this is madness!" Fíli cried. "Kíli is your nephew! And he is still injured! What are you thinking?"

Kíli saw something flicker in Thorin's eyes, and for a split second, he thought he saw the old Thorin, the uncle who had taught him Khuzdul and told him stories back in Ered Luin. Then Thorin's expression hardened again, turning him into the stranger who wore his face. He shook Fíli and Bofur off before sweeping back into Erebor. Fíli immediately dropped to his knees by Kíli's side.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. Kíli nodded, catching his breath and using his staff to lever himself back into an upright position.

"What's wrong with Uncle?" he asked Fíli desperately. "It's like he's a different person!"

"Do you think it could have been the gold that changed him?" Fíli asked quietly, looking up cautiously to make sure they were not being overheard. "It is said that the gold drove Thrór mad. Could Thorin be going the same way?"

"Surely this is not irreversible," Kíli replied desperately. "Surely we can do something."

"What can we do?" Fíli countered. "He's has declared war. If this madness his driven him to that, is there any of him left?"

"There is," Kíli replied confidently, although he had to admit that much of his bravado was false. "When you and Bofur pulled him away, for a second, I saw our uncle. Our _real_ uncle. He's still there, I know it."

"I hope you are right," Fíli replied grimly, walking deeper into Erebor. "For, if he is not, we will find ourselves in a war against our friends."

"There are but fourteen of us," Kíli countered. "We have no hope against the elven army, and even the Men of Lake-town can put together some sort of militia, I'm sure. And we cannot wait them out either, not with our food supplies. We cannot have very much left."

As Fíli was about to respond, they turned a corner to find the rest of the Company waiting, everyone - even Dwalin - looking pleased to see them. With a look that clearly stated that they would continue their conversation later, Fíli entered the room, immediately getting caught up in the group of dwarves wishing to speak to him. Kíli hung back, not at all in the mood to celebrate and fairly unwilling to pretend.

"I am glad you're safe, Kíli," a quiet voice said. Kíli looked down to see Bilbo next to him, hands in his pockets, watching the others as Kíli was. Under his shirt, Kíli saw something glint; he assumed it was some sort of mail that had been found in the mountain. "When Smaug went to Lake-town, we all feared the worst."

"As did we," Kíli replied. "When we saw that Smaug had left the mountain, we could not help but wonder if he had left anyone alive inside."

"We attempted to slay him, but our efforts did not do much good," Bilbo replied with a shrug. "It was a good plan, though, led by your uncle." Kíli's jaw tightened at the mention of Thorin, which he was sure Bilbo noticed, but no comment on it was forthcoming. "We went to the forges, where there was still gold from a project that was in the works when Smaug took Erebor. There was a statue mold in the Hall of Kings, where we led Smaug. Then, once the mold was full of the molten gold, Thorin attempted to drown Smaug in it. We thought it had worked, but he survived it." Bilbo shrugged again. "It makes sense, I suppose. Fire cannot kill a dragon."

"That does make sense," Kíli replied, wincing as a wave of pain spread through his body. He knew his leg was the source; when Thorin had shoved him against the wall, it must have reopened the wound.

"Are you alright?" Bilbo asked, looking concerned. Kíli offered him a weak smile.

"It's just my leg," he replied dismissively. Bilbo frowned.

"The orc wound?" he asked, looking down at Kíli's leg. "Is it not healed?"

"It was poisoned," Kíli replied, gripping his staff a bit more tightly. "Tauriel, the elf captain who saved me in the forest and guarded us in Mirkwood, saved my life. Again. She expelled the poison and treated the wound. It was beyond Óin's knowledge, and if not for her, I would have died."

"You're fond of her," Bilbo remarked. Kíli avoided his gaze. "I have nothing against elves!" Bilbo added quickly. "I don't think it was right of the Elvenking to do what he did to you, but I quite liked Lord Elrond in Rivendell. And if this Tauriel saved your life, she can't be all that bad, can she?" Kíli appreciated Bilbo's attempt to cheer him up, but he knew it wouldn't work.

"I wish Uncle Thorin felt the same way," he said grimly. Bilbo winced slightly. "Have you noticed?" Kíli demanded. Bilbo looked down.

"Noticed what, exactly?" he asked. Kíli let out a soft noise of frustration.

"You know of what I speak!" he hissed. "Thorin has changed. He isn't the same dwarrow he was. Something is happening to him, and we must stop it!"

"I…" Bilbo sighed. "I too have seen the change of which you speak. But all of the others seem to be as wrapped up in the lust for riches as he is. It's been changing all of them, more and more the closer we came to Erebor."

"All of them?" Kíli asked desperately, his heart plummeting. If all of the dwarves were as caught up in the madness as Thorin was, they had very little chance of turning things around.

"Nearly, yes," Bilbo replied apologetically. "I have not seen it in you or your brother on our travels, and since coming here, the lust seems to affect Bombur less violently than anyone else, perhaps as it must war with his lust for food." Kíli couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the joke. "But as for the others…yes, I'm afraid. They've all gotten caught up in it. Some less than others, yes, but to an extent, I have seen some hint of it in everyone but you and your brother on our journey. And now that you and the others have come to Erebor…" Bilbo let his voice trail off, but Kíli knew what he meant.

"I will not be caught up in this, I swear it," he told Bilbo fiercely. "And neither will Fíli. I know my brother as well as I know myself, and neither of us has any lust for gold. We have never cared for riches as other dwarrows do. And you…"

"Oh, I have no love for gold and gems," Bilbo replied dismissively. "You cannot eat them, after all, and they seem to be harsh and cold. No, my only longing remains my yearning for home again."

"Kíli!" Glóin called loudly, making both Kíli and Bilbo jump. "Come over here, lad! We've all been worried about you. How's your leg?"

With a regretful look at Bilbo, Kíli threw himself into the fray, smiling and laughing as if nothing were wrong. It was an exhausting effort, and Kíli could see the same strain in Fíli's eyes as they continued to pretend all was well. Kíli yearned to escape the crowd and talk to his brother, so he could tell him what Bilbo had said and formulate some sort of plan. Now that he was spending more time with the others, Kíli could see the signs of the goldlust in them as well, with every mention of the riches of Erebor feeling as if it were tearing at his heart.

Finally, as the sun began to go down and the room began to grow darker, the impromptu party began to die down. Kíli immediately sought Fíli in the crowd, finding him engaged in a conversation with Ori about the things that were waiting for them in the library of Erebor.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Kíli cut in, not really feeling sorry at all. "Ori, do you mind if I steal Fíli for a moment?"

"No, of course not," Ori replied, good-naturedly walking over to Bofur, apparently to continue the same conversation with him.

"The gold sickness is present in all of them," Fíli hissed once they were out of earshot from the others.

"Bilbo said much the same," Kíli replied. "He told me that he's seen signs of it in all of them all along, and much more since they arrived here. This mountain is _poison_, Fíli. It's taken our friends and warped them into something different!"

"What can we do about it?" Fíli retorted. "I like this as little as you do, but it seems there is little that can be done."

"We can't just let this happen!" Kíli cried. Fíli hushed him immediately. "We have to do something," Kíli added in a softer voice. "We have Bilbo on our side as well. We can't just abandon our friends!"

"Where is Bilbo?" Fíli asked with a slight frown, looking around the room. Kíli followed his gaze and saw the Bilbo had left. He frowned as well.

"I don't know." Kíli winced as another wave of pain wracked his body. The discomfort had been fairly constant for the entire time Kíli had been talking with the other dwarves, but only occasionally had it escalated into real pain. Fíli noticed it, of course.

"Is your leg paining you again?" he demanded. Kíli shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I thought it had been getting better over the past week!"

"It was," Kíli replied, realizing Fíli would not let the topic drop. "But I think it's been reopened."

"Was it Uncle?" Fíli asked, horrified. Kíli avoided his gaze. "By Mahal's hammer, it was," Fíli gasped.

"It wasn't really him," Kíli countered. "This isn't really our uncle. He's not in his right mind."

"He hurt you," Fíli hissed.

"I'll be fine," Kíli replied, despite the fact that his leg did hurt quite a bit. He wished Tauriel were there to help him; her cures always seemed to work better than Óin's, although Kíli would never admit it to him. "But the others might not be. We have to do something."

"And we will," Fíli replied. "But not right now. Tomorrow, we'll find Bilbo and speak to him about this. For now, Óin is going to take a look at your leg."

"Fíli!" Kíli protested, but he found himself being dragged over to Óin, who treated his wound quickly and efficiently. Kíli still longed for Tauriel to do it instead.

"I cannot fight the elves and Men," Kíli whispered to Fíli, after Óin had finished and all the dwarves had gone to sleep except Dwalin, who had gone out to find Thorin. "I will not fight our friends, Fíli. I don't care what Uncle says. I'm not doing it."

"I won't do it either," Fíli replied, his voice equally hushed. "We'll figure something out in the morning. Everything will be alright, little brother."

The next morning, everything fell apart even more than it already had.

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><p><strong>Thorin's actions under the gold sickness are extreme, but he acts as such in the book as well, shooting at messengers and threatening his friends. While he is never physical with Kíli in the book, Tauriel doesn't exist in the book, meaning that the circumstances are different.<strong>

**The glint under Bilbo's shirt that Kíli sees is the mithril mail shirt that Bilbo gives to Frodo in emThe Fellowship of the Ring/em; Thorin gives it to him when they reach Erebor, and judging by movie posters for Battle of the Five Armies, he'll do so in the movie as well.**

**The idea that Fíli, Kíli, and (to a lesser extent) Bombur aren't affected by the gold lust is substantiated by actions from the book, including this quote: "So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili." Bilbo is never affected by the gold lust either.**


	14. Chapter 14

When the negotiations began again the next morning, all of the dwarves ended up in the front hall with Thorin, watching to see what would happen. Bilbo was there as well; he had returned sometime in the night from wherever he had gone.

Kíli had been hoping Tauriel would be with the group, but there were only three figures: Bard, Thranduil, and someone else in a cloak. Bard was the one to step forward. He met Kíli's eye for half a second. Kíli shook his head discreetly. Bard didn't show any sign of his reaction on his face, but Kíli had to guess that he was disappointed that Thorin could not be persuaded. Kíli wished he could have helped more, but Fíli had forbidden it; Thorin was too volatile at the moment for them to face him openly.

Fíli and Kíli were fairly certain they were alone in going against Thorin. Earlier that morning, Thorin had led everyone to one of the vaults of Erebor, filled with treasure. Fíli and Kíli had watched despairingly as the other dwarves went wild over the gold, even Bombur, whom Bilbo had said was less affected than the others. Kíli had been holding out hope that Bofur and Óin would be less affected, as they had been so friendly with Bard and Tauriel, but he was disappointed; they were drawn in as readily as the others.

"King Thorin!" Bard yelled as he began the negotiations. "Do you still refuse to give Lake-town the riches you promised, and fulfill the agreement your heir made with King Thranduil?"

"There is nothing that can persuade me to help you, my enemies," Thorin called back. "No matter what you may do, you cannot convince me to give you gold and riches to which you have no claim!"

"Then perhaps you would prefer a trade," Bard replied, pulling something out of his coat pocket. Kíli had to admit he had no idea what Bard's angle was, but he hoped that whatever he held could help the situation. Whatever it was, it was swathed in cloth to disguise it. Thorin's eyes narrowed.

"There is nothing you can offer that would tempt me," he spat. Bard pulled the cloth off the object to reveal a glowing gem. Thorin's breath caught audibly in his throat.

"I offer you the Arkenstone of Thrór," Bard declared. Kíli gasped. Thorin had insisted that everyone search for the Arkenstone when they reached the vault, desperate to find it. He had been sure it was somewhere in the mountain, as he thought Smaug would value it as Thrór had. Fíli and Kíli had hung in the back, plucking at a few harps that had hung on the walls, but the other dwarves had eagerly helped in the search. And now, for Bard to have it…

"Who has betrayed me like this!" Thorin roared, turning to face the Company. Out of the corner of his eye, Kíli saw Bilbo stand straighter, and everything clicked together with sickening surety. It had been Bilbo who had found the Arkenstone, and Bilbo who had given it to Bard. That must have been what he had done the night before, when he had slipped away. Kíli's heart went out to the brave little hobbit, who must have known the consequences his actions would bring. But if the gamble paid off, if Bilbo's actions could prevent a war… Well, Kíli could only hope.

"Who has done this?" Thorin shouted, his eyes latching on Kíli. "Who has such love for my enemies that he would give them the King's jewel, the Arkenstone of my grandfather?"

Kíli swallowed hard. It hadn't been him, but perhaps, as Thorin clearly already suspected him more than anyone else, he could take the blame, and-

"It was I," Bilbo stated loudly. Thorin's eyes went wide with rage, turning to face Bilbo. "I gave the Arkenstone to Bard and King Thranduil."

"You?" Thorin hissed, his eyes narrowing. "You miserable creature! You _knew_ what the Arkenstone meant, you filthy thief!"

"I was promised a share of the treasure, and the Arkenstone is the share I chose," Bilbo replied, his voice shaking only the tiniest bit. "I have given it to Bard and King Thranduil, as was my right."

"Your _right_?" Thorin cried, grabbing Bilbo by the collar. Immediately, Kíli sprang into motion, the adrenaline wiping away the pain in his leg. He raced towards Bilbo, dropping his staff as he went, and grabbed the hobbit, pulling him away from Thorin. Kíli placed himself in front of Bilbo, creating a shield between him and Thorin. Fíli had moved with him, pulling Thorin away, and now joined Kíli in protecting Bilbo.

"You two, my own kin, would betray me like this?" Thorin growled. "Did you aid this villain in his scheme as well?"

"Uncle, please," Fíli begged, stepping forward. "Bilbo is our friend. He's your friend too. Do not harm him."

"I will not have you tell me what to do!" Thorin cried, shoving Fíli away. Kíli let out a cry and moved to protect his brother, but a voice cut him off before he could.

"Do not harm your own nephew, Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf yelled, for it had been he who was the third member of the small group, he who had been under the cloak. "And do not harm my burglar."

"The wizard returns," Thorin snarled disdainfully. "Tell me, did you always have this in mind? You informed me that I must wait for you before entering Erebor, and had I done as you had asked, I would have missed Durin's Day. You infiltrated my Company with your dratted burglar, who has betrayed me. And you have poisoned the minds of my nephews against me!"

"The only one who has poisoned your nephews against you is you yourself!" Gandalf cried. "But there are more important matters at hand then your petty greed. Things are stirring in Dol Guldur, where Sauron, the greatest enemy that Middle Earth has ever faced, has gathered an army of orcs and goblins, who are marching here as we speak! They are led by Azog the Defiler!"

"You lie," Thorin spat. "You have been working against me from the start. You and this hobbit!"

"Thorin, I wish only the best for all of us!" Bilbo protested. Thorin lunged forward at him, but Kíli quickly threw himself in front of Bilbo again.

"Let him leave, Uncle," Fíli said softly. "Do not harm your friend."

"That hobbit is no friend of mine," Thorin snarled. "If he wishes to live, he will leave now. If he stays here, I will kill him."

"Then I will leave," Bilbo declared. Kíli's heart sank. Bilbo was the only ally that he and Fíli had against the gold sickness. What were they to do without him? "Thank you, Fíli and Kíli," Bilbo added quietly, turning and walking away. Gandalf dismounted from his horse to help Bilbo up onto it. The little hobbit looked even smaller on the huge horse. Kíli closed his eyes, not wanting to watch, but he opened them again a moment later, knowing he must.

"Will you not prepare for the oncoming army?" Gandalf called to Thorin. "There are orcs and goblins coming, and they will not be deterred by the mountain. They will kill all of you."

"You are working with my enemies," Thorin spat. "I do not believe a word that you say, liar. May your beard wither!" Kíli's eyes went wide; an insult like that was practically the worst thing a dwarf could say to someone. Gandalf mounted his horse, sitting behind Bilbo.

"If that is all you will say, then there is nothing else to be done here," he declared. "You are not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, but things may change yet."

"I will not have you critiquing my way of leadership, you who has done nothing but undermine me this entire time," Thorin growled. "Leave us, wizard, for you are not a part of this negotiation."

"And what shall you do about the Arkenstone?" Thranduil asked, speaking for the first time. "You know that you need the jewel to be seen as the true King Under the Mountain. You have no choice but to bargain for it."

"I will hate you for as long as I live," Thorin hissed. "Both the elves of Mirkwood and the men of Lake-town. I will always hate you for what you have done to me. And I will hate the hobbits of the Shire beyond even my hatred of you." Bilbo flinched on the horse. Kíli's heart went out to him, but he knew that speaking wouldn't help anything.

"Your hatred aside, what will you trade for the Arkenstone?" Thranduil asked, sounding almost bored. "If the burglar was promised one fourteenth of the treasure, for which he has claimed the Arkenstone, would it not stand to reason that you would pay one fourteenth of the treasure to reclaim the stone?"

Thorin gritted his teeth. "Very well," he finally growled. "You will have one fourteenth of the treasure, in exchange for the Arkenstone. I shall gather things together for you after you leave, and we will trade tomorrow."

"We will keep the Arkenstone until that point," Bard declared. "Thank you for being reasonable, King Thorin."

"This is not reason," Thorin spat. "This is bribery. This is blackmail. You are robbers and thieves, all of you!"

"We will return tomorrow to trade," Bard declared, turning his horse around. Thranduil turned with him, but Gandalf and Bilbo lingered for a moment longer.

"I hope that we may met as friends once again, someday," Bilbo called. Thorin's eyes narrowed.

"You have the mail which I have already given you, which protects your chest, but I may still rain arrows upon your head and feet. Leave, now, before I do so."

"Farewell, Bilbo!" Kíli yelled, unable to keep quiet any longer. "Farewell, Gandalf! I too hope that we may meet as friends, and hopefully before too long!"

"Kíli!" Fíli hissed. Thorin turned, looking furious.

"How dare you say such things to my enemies?" he snarled. Kíli glared back at Thorin.

"Your enemies are not my enemies. Bilbo and Gandalf are my friends, and I will not treat them as you do. Have you forgotten all that they have done for us?"

"Farewell, Kíli!" Bilbo called back, breaking the standstill between Kíli and Thorin.

"I am glad to see that some wisdom still remains in this Company," Gandalf added before turning and galloping off. Kíli remained glaring at Thorin, who finally turned and strode back into the mountain, followed by the entire Company save Fíli and Kíli. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain in Kíli's leg made itself known. Fíli grabbed Kíli as his leg gave out, gently lowering him to the ground before going over to get his staff.

"That was foolish," Fíli said quietly. "Thorin is already angry enough with you. Do not antagonize him any more than you already have."

"He would have killed Bilbo!" Kíli protested, levering himself upright the help of both Fíli and his staff. "Our uncle has changed, Fíli. He's not our uncle any more!"

"Be that as it may, you can do nothing more to help if he sends you away as well!" Fíli cried. "You must promise me that you will stop openly antagonizing him. We can try to figure out how to undo this gold sickness, but we will do it together and we will do it secretly. I cannot lose you, Kíli."

"You won't," Kíli promised brashly. "And I promise to stop antagonizing Thorin openly, until he has returned to his normal state."

"We ought to go inside," Fíli added, looking nervously into the mountain. "I doubt Thorin is willing to let things go that easily."

"You think so too?" Kíli asked, his heart sinking. He had hoped it was just paranoia that told him that Thorin had some plan up his sleeve, but if Fíli felt the same way, it was clearly more.

"I fear it, yes," Fíli replied. "But I doubt Thorin will be very likely to speak freely with us around, as we have both made our divided loyalties clear. We ought to wait out of sight for as long as we can."

"Agreed," Kíli replied, nodding. As quietly as they could, they snuck into Erebor, finding that the others were in the same room as before. Fíli stopped before the door, prompting to Kíli stop next to him.

"Dáin will be here soon," Thorin was declaring. "The elves and Men will not expect his arrival. They have told us of this supposed threat to distract us, but it will not work. Dáin and his troops will crush them and seize the Arkenstone. He ought to arrive before we negotiate tomorrow, but if not, we must find a way to delay the negotiations."

Kíli almost gasped, but Fíli slammed his palm over Kíli's mouth, trapping any sound that might have escaped. He shook his head slightly, jerking his head towards the doorway.

"It's not honorable to attack them without warning," Dwalin countered. Thorin scoffed.

"Nothing that they have done is honorable, so we ought not confine ourselves to the rules of honor and decorum. I will not show them respect if they do not show us respect."

"You're right," Dwalin replied after a moment of silence. "What will you give Dáin in return for what he has done?"

"After Fíli and Kíli, he is next in line for the throne of Erebor," Thorin replied. "If the actions of my nephews do not change, he may become closer to the throne before too long." Fíli and Kíli looked at each other, their faces in identical expressions of shock. Kíli knew that Thorin was displeased with him, but he had never expected that Thorin might remove him or Fíli from the line of succession!

"Thorin, they're just boys," Balin protested.

"I cannot have heirs who are not loyal to me," Thorin declared. The muttering from the dwarves after that sounded fairly positive. Kíli felt sick.

"You ought to give them another chance," Bofur suggested.

"I will," Thorin replied. "But, as I said, if their actions do not change, they can no longer be my heirs."

Fíli tugged at Kíli gently, leading him silently down the halls of Erebor to the vault that they had been shown earlier that day.

"Not here," Kíli protested, trying to pull away from Fíli and leave the room. "I hate this damned place, with all of the riches it holds."

"And that is exactly why we must be here," Fíli replied urgently. "We can speak with privacy for some time, as it is unlikely that anyone will search for us here, and when they do, I imagine Thorin's suspicions will be diminished if he finds us as entranced by the gold as the others. You heard what he said. We must do what we can to make him less suspicious of us."

"I do not know how long I can maintain such an act," Kíli admitted. Fíli grinned humorlessly.

"You won't have to maintain it for too long. Tonight, when all of the others are asleep, I propose that we leave and warn the Men and elves of what is to come. We can ask Gandalf for more information about the enemy in Dol Guldur, and if Dáin has already arrived, we can attempt to reason with him as well."

"You speak treason," Kíli replied slowly. Fíli nodded.

"I know. If we do this, there is no turning back. Thorin may never trust us again. He may disown us and remove us from the line of succession."

"And yet, we must do this," Kíli replied. "We cannot sit back and do nothing. We cannot leave our friends to be ambushed. If Thorin has become such a tyrant that he would do such things, then we have no choice but to go against him."

"I'm sorry that we must do this," Fíli added, sitting in a chair along the wall of the vault. Kíli sank into the one next to him, his leg thankful that he was giving it a break. "I know you have always idolized Uncle Thorin, even more than I have. I am sorry that we must see him as he is now."

"I still do see Uncle Thorin as one of my heroes," Kíli replied slowly. "This new King Thorin and our Uncle Thorin are different, almost as if they are not the same person. Although, I must admit, I will be very glad when our Uncle Thorin comes back."

"As will I," Fíli replied. Kíli leaned his head on his brother's shoulder with a sigh.

Even if Thorin were lost forever, and the rest of the Company as well, at least Kíli would always have his brother.

* * *

><p><strong>The bit about Fíli and Kíli playing golden harps while the other dwarves look for the Arkenstone is in the book, in chapter 13. Technically, it should take place earlier, right when the dwarves have first entered Erebor, but considering Fíli and Kíli have just reached Erebor themselves, the timeline had to be tweaked.<strong>

**A lot of this chapter is influenced heavily by the book, to the extent that some of the lines have been directly lifted from Tolkien's text. Of course, changes have been made to fit the changes in the movies.**

**Dáin Ironfoot is Thorin's second cousin and the Lord of the Iron Hills. He is canonically in line for the throne of Erebor, after Fíli and Kíli.**

**Finally, I have not yet seen the third Hobbit movie, although I hope to do so soon. I'm sure that this fanfiction veers from the third movie canon fairly heavily, and it will continue to do so. Although I'm sure I will see the movie before this fanfiction is finished, I have a plan for the end of this fanfiction (and potentially more stories in the same universe) that will not be changed due to the third movie. With the premiere of the third movie, this fanfiction has now officially entered the realm of an alternate universe, and it will stay that way.**


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